MOONY
by Emiliana
Summary: 1month after Sirius' death, Lupin is distraught. Will his newfound truce with Snape lead to unexpected changes? SSRL friendship. SBRL (implied for now,romance later)
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimers: All characters belong to JK Rowling. (Do you seriously think I would have killed a certain character if I had any say in it?)

***WARNING***  This may contain some MILD swearing, HINTS at suicidal feelings (no one gets killed, don't worry… I'm not JKR…), and MAYBE some slash later on (though it's implied from the beginning, if you read carefully between the lines). Don't like? Don't read. Flame me if you want to, but you've been warned. Constructive criticism is always welcome.

Author's Notes 1: I'm Italian, and I don't have a beta reader (not really sure how that works anyway), so I've probably made tons of mistakes (Americanisms, spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes, etc.). Feel free to write me if you find any.. and I'll make sure I correct them. :)

Author's Note 2: I have the general plot all here in my head, but I still haven't written down the whole story… so, suggestions/ideas/etc are always welcome. The first chapter is pretty much just General… I'm introducing the situation. A month has gone by since Sirius' death, and Lupin still refuses to mourn him, or even acknowledge his death. In the "prisoner of Azkaban" he found his long lost friend, and thought he had a whole life to sort out certain feelings… but as we all know in the "order of the phoenix" he finds himself all alone once again. He's lost his best friend not once, but twice. Plus, he knows deep in his heart –though he's never admitted it to himself- that his feelings for Sirius were not just brotherly. Of course, he'd never talked about it with Sirius. And now he has to face the rest of his life without him. Anyways, it will all be explained in due time.  :)

Tonks appears as a friend (before converting to L/S I was a tenacious Tonks/Lupin shipper.. :)

Snape also appears (along with Lupin and Sirius he's one of my favorite characters). Will become a Lupin/Snape friendship later on.

***********************  MOONY *********************************

***** CHAPTER 1 *****

** DENIAL **

Lupin had been sitting on that chair the whole evening, pretending to read, but in fact staring off into space, when Tonks finally got tired of it, and burst out 

"So, are you gonna do something or not?" It took Lupin a while to realize she'd spoken up; he turned his head towards her, who was comfortably sprawled on the sofa. They were in the living room of Grimmauld Place, the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and they were alone. Dumbledore was at Hogwarts, as was Hagrid. Mundungus and Sacklebolt were off somewhere, each on a different mission. Tonks just happened to be free and have no place else to be.

"Do what? What do you mean?" asked Lupin, dumbfounded. Tonks rolled her eyes as she sat up, displaying her most serious expression. 

"Oh, come on. You know what I'm talking about."

Lupin finally understood, but made no answer. They'd had this conversation again and again, since right after S—for a while now. Ever since 'That Day' everyone had tried to comfort him some way, but when they'd realized he just wanted to be left alone, they'd given up –even Dumbledore, busy as he was with his plans. Tonks hadn't. Instead, she kept pressuring him about—

She interrupted his trail of thoughts. "Remus, you won't get rid of the problem by avoiding it."

"There *is* no problem. I'm a member of the Order, and I'm here to do my job. I have my missions, I attend the summits, I drink the potion and lock myself up every full moon. I *am* doing my job. Nothing's wrong. So why don't you just drop it?"

He was angry for her intrusion, she knew he must be. Yet, his tone was detached, and he wouldn't let down his I'm-off-somewhere-else-do-not-disturb-me attitude of his. If any, it made her even more determined. She rose from the couch and walked up to him.

"Alright. Alright. Listen to me. Now this is what I thought…"

She watched as he hid behind that wall he'd built to separate himself from the rest of humanity and prepared for battle. 

"There is nothing more to add. I already know what you think. You just remind me every single time you see me. Now, if you'll just let me—" 

He made to turn to the book, but she leapt forward and snatched it off his hand, then threw it to the wall. Of course, being Tonks, she accidentally sent it in the direction of the bookcase, knocking off some goblets before falling to the floor.

"No. I won't 'let you' do anything. You cannot avoid this forever. Don't you see it? You need HELP! It's not like anyone hasn't noticed, you know… your not *that* good. They just dismiss it as some regular post-trauma thing or something, and they let you be. Now, I know that's precisely what you want… but that was exactly what got me suspicious in the first place." She paused, then decided it was no use in beating about the bush. 

"I know you're hurt. Hell, I certainly don't have to tell you how *you* are feeling."

Lupin's expression was still blank, but he'd clenched his fists until his knuckles had become white, and he hoped she wouldn't notice. 

"I miss him too. We all do." She said gently. 

"You –don't understand…" he barely let out.

"No, Lupin. I think I do understand. Sirius…" at the mention of that name Lupin started, his eyes widening for an instant. "…was the only member of my family –besides my parents- whom I loved. He had been a kind of a big brother for me, and even though never saw much of each other, that doesn't change what he meant to me. I loved him."

Lupin shut his eyes tightly.  Go away, he thought. I'm not listening, I'm not…

"It is tough" she went on, and was so close now that she could reach out a hand…and she did. She touched his shoulder, tentatively at first, then more firmly. His eyes were a bit shimmering now.

"It is tough to live with it, knowing how easy it would have been for things to be different. And yet… somehow I feel like your sorrow is deeper than ours put together. And that's saying a lot, since Harry is included. You scare me. And I can assure you… you won't be able to keep this all inside you, not forever. You can't just bottle and bottle and bottle up. Just tell SOMEONE. Not necessarily me, of course. Go to Dumbledore. To Arthur… Please, Remus. Please. You have to find in yourself the will to move on--"

Lupin had silently listened to her, apparently untouched by her words. He had his eyes closed, but now opened them and deliberately looked at her. She fell silent. His eyes were so …sad. No. Not just sad. It wasn't just 'hurting'. It was unbearable. He didn't need to utter a single word… he just let her see it, and she found her own eyes were watering.

"Merlin, I'm so sorry…" she let out, while instinctively kneeling down and hugging him as tight as she could, not caring if she hurt him. Lupin let her hold him for a while; then he pulled away, gently but firmly, just so he could look at her again. And there he was, the same impenetrable wall was back, and she'd once again shut her off.

"I can't let go" he explained, softly. "Because if I do, I know I'll die." He paused. "Harry needs me. Or, rather, he needs me to *not* leave him like He did."

Tonks was touched beyond words, but at the same time she wanted to slap him, to yell at his that he had to do *something*, had to tell someone, had to let go. That he couldn't just wait to waste away slowly, until nothing would be left of him. She desperately wanted him to feel better. But she didn't know how. So, as his hands reached up to cup her cheeks in a caring gesture, she leaned in and brushed her lips with his. She hoped her tender kiss managed to get through to him, showing him how much she cared, how much she wanted him to be okay. She felt his lips curl up in the faintest hint of a smile, and knew he'd understood. 

Suddenly, with a crack, the door slammed open, and Snape strode into the room.

"Lupin, where the hell are--" He stopped dead. His eyes darted from him, to Tonks, then back again. Tonks pulled away quickly, tripped on a nearby chair, knocking it off, and ended up on the floor, her cheeks bright red. Lupin made to help her, but she shook her head, unable to look at either of them, and stoop up. It was obvious that –after everything she'd done– whatever she said would only worsen the situation.

It was just that…professor Snape made her nervous. Extremely nervous. She couldn't help it, she was one of the million other people on whom he had this effect. Only, when she was nervous, she became even *clumsier*, if such a thing was possible, and that wasn't a good thing in situations like these.

Snape raised an eyebrow at her, misunderstanding the guilty expression on her face. He looked like he had no intention of leaving the room, so Tonks turned towards Lupin, and seeing the twinkle in his eyes telling her it was okay –or at least as okay as it could be- she excused herself and rushed out, barely leaving time for Lupin to call after her.

"Good night, Tonks."

"So." Snape's voice couldn't have possibly been colder. If you looked hard enough you could actually see the vibes of loathing radiating from him, but Lupin wasn't in the mood to argue –or to do anything else, for that matter. 

'You need help…' Tonk's voice echoed in his mind, but he dismissed it. 

"Is there something you wanted to tell me, Severus?" Snape flinched at the sound of his first name on Lupin's lips, but didn't answer. He was determined not to let him get away with 'what had just happened'. 

"Oh, please. It's not what you think.." Lupin began, but Snape cut him off.

"Do you have any idea—"

"It is *not* what you think." Lupin said again, calmly.

"Really. Then what the hell was that?" He made no effort at hiding his disgust. 

Lupin sighed. Maybe a little truth wouldn't hurt, at this point. Snape wouldn't believe him anyways.

"She was.. trying to convince me to do something I'm a bit reluctant to do."

Snape smirked mirthlessly. 

"You sure looked like you wanted her to stop…" he commented. 

"*YOU* need to stop that right now."

Suddenly it downed on Lupin. Maybe he didn't need 'human' help… but there *was* something he'd looked for over and over again, never being able to find it anywhere…not even in Knockturn Alley… He realized Snape was still talking, and returned his attention to him.

"..is it, then? Trying to take advantage of the fact that the poor girl –I won't waste time pointing out that she's barely *not* a student, and not particularly intelligent –has just lost a family member?"

Lupin's eyes widened in shock, snapping up at him. Snape knew then that he'd gone too far. The mere look on Lupin's eyes made him shift uncomfortably. The werewolf's gaze hardened for a fleeting instant, and he looked like he wanted to kill Snape with his bare hands –or himself, maybe, Snape realized with a certain amount of surprise. Then Lupin's expression went blank again.

"She was trying to convince me…" he said slowly, "I need…" he took a deep breath. "*She* thinks I need help."

Snape was looking down at him, his eyes unreadable. He seemed to consider Lupin's words. He had understood what it was all about. Or at least, he had a good guess, because the brat had begun pretty good at disguising his feelings. He looked so detached from the whole thing –too much, in fact– that there just had to behind that barricade. It was some kind of personal, private sorrow for him. Snape couldn't understand how one could possibly have liked Black, let alone love him, like they all seemed to –even Dumbledore, for Merlin's sake! He'd been the same bastard of the old days at school.

But. Snape understood pain. So he swallowed back a nasty comment about how nice it would be to get him locked in St. Mungo's –he felt real bad now for joking about Black's death earlier. It had been a low blow, even for his somewhat 'high' standards in that category. And as much as he was annoyed by Lupin, the werewolf looked shattered enough as it was.

"Alright then." He finally spoke, after what he realized must have been a long moment.

Lupin's hostile gaze disappeared in what seemed to be light surprise. He sure was expecting a different kind of comment. Snape made an exasperated face.

"I was looking for you." He said, careful to display his most annoyed tone. "I've been told that there was no need to, but I like to be safe rather than sorry.  In a few days there's going to be a full moon… you need to start taking the potion." That said, he produced a small glass bottle from underneath his robes. Lupin sighed.

"Severus, I can feel the full moon when it's coming. Under *any* circumstances. You already know that." But he reached out to take the bottle anyway. Snape strode forward and placed it on top of the table. Lupin retreated his hand.

"In any case," Snape wasn't finished, it seemed. "I suggest that you go talk with Dumbledore… maybe he can help." He really tried to spit it out, as he didn't want Lupin to think he was concerned about him. And yet, there it was again, that slightly surprised –and mildly pleased, but he chose to ignore it- expression. 

The werewolf shook his head, as his eyes purposely met his.

"Thank you, but no. I meant I need *your* help."

"What?!" The word slipped out of his mouth before he was able to stop it. "Are you joking?" He was… *appalled*. Lupin had no right to ask–and besides, what could he do for him?

"Personally, I don't think it's necessary," Lupin was a bad liar. "Anyway, Tonks threatened to tell Dumbledore. I think he already knows it, as he knows everything else. But I don't wanna bother him any more than strictly necessary. He's definitely got more important matters at hand."

"And you think *I* don't?" Snape hid his discomfort behind a snapping tone.

"Oh, I do. That's precisely why I didn't even want to tell you in the first place. Merlin, I don't even know why we're having this conversation…" he trailed off, feeling extremely coward as he did so.

"For once the feeling is mutual, then. Drink the potion." With that, he turned to leave.

He'd almost actually managed to, when Lupin called after him, and stood up for the first time that evening. 

"Severus, wait." Snape turned, a scowl plastered to his face. He *hated* to be addressed by his first name, especially by *him*. At least Black had had the decency of calling him Snape.  No, wait. He still had liked to call him Snivellus, when Dumbledore wasn't around.

"I was wondering if you… by any chance… had some extra oblivion potion..." Lupin stammered, his fingers toying nervously with the hem of his tattered robes.

"Maybe the full moon IS affecting you more than usual, Lupin. Why would *I* have some 'extra' oblivion? You know it's a forbidden potion. You can't just brew it for yourself whenever you 'feel like'. There are laws…"

"Severus, I may be a bit tired, but I'm not stupid. There are more or less a million reasons why you would keep some spare oblivion always at hand… maybe because you are a potions master, or because it's very difficult to prepare and you never know if you're gonna need it, especially in times like these…"

Lupin was careful not to mention the real reason why Snape *actually* took it, and quite frequently. Getting back to being a Death Eater, after twenty years of 'serving the enemy'… Voldemort wasn't really the 'forgiving' kind of guy…

"The problem is whether you wanna lend me some of it, or not. It's up to you. You're absolutely free to say no, of course. You know how much you must work just to brew a small amount of it… No hard feelings, really."

By Merlin's beard! Lupin had his eyes on the floor now, and he looked so broken and alone like Snape hadn't seen him –or bothered to, actually- before.

"I don't have any at the moment." He chose his words carefully. Something seemed to occur to Lupin –Snape had been on a secret mission just three days before.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to…"Lupin began, but Snape cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"I'm very busy at the moment. But. I'll see what I can do."

Seeing Lupin's mouth erupting into a small smile of gratitude, he hastily added: "I'm not promising you anything."

"Of course." Lupin nodded in agreement

Snape turned to go in a swirling of black robes, but Lupin managed to call out a heartfelt "Thank you!" before the door slammed shut behind him. 

Lupin was left standing there, alone in the whole house –with the only exception of Buckbeak, of course. But Lupin never went to the room they'd reserved to the noble animal: it would bring back too many memories.

He slowly reached out a hand and grabbed the bottle of the potion. He had planned to go to Severus first thing in the morning, but Snape had been quicker. 

He had kind of come to understand the potions master's attitude towards him. After all, he was being forced to breed the wolfbane potion –one of the most difficult ones-  every single month, for a person –a half-breed, actually – who just happened to be his sworn enemy. 'Well, the only *surviving* sworn enemy' he corrected himself mentally, a flash of pain passing like a shadow over his features. He shook his head firmly, and drank up the potion, screwing up his face in the process. At least some things hadn't changed: the taste of that thing was absolutely abominable. He was considering the idea of suggesting Snape to add some lemon or strawberry flavor to it, but if he did, he was sure the potions master might put some venom instead. He walked to the kitchen and up to the sink and washed the bottle carefully, then he went back to the living room and began to tidy up the mess Tonks had made by throwing the book. He took his time, choosing not to use magic.

Dumbledore only gave him missions on rare occasions now, no matter how much Lupin insisted that he *needed* something to do, to keep his mind busy. Dumbledore kept on saying he needed some rest. The old wizard just didn't understand that if Lupin slowed down just a bit, he'd just tumble down like a castle of sand when a particularly heavy wave falls on it. 

********************************

Yay! So this is the end of the first chapter…  I hope you liked it… please R/R (Read and Review!)

I hate to see Lupin so heart-broken… but believe me, I know what it feels like to miss your chance with a person you truly loved…


	2. Trying To Hold On

Author's Notes:   CHAPTER EDITED!!!

Okay, this might sound a bit tacky… I made it all up, the Oblivion Potion. I know that in book two the Oblivion Spell is mentioned (the one Lockheart uses to erase people's memories). But, well, I don't study Latin anymore, so I'm not good at making up new words.  I thought I'd use the old word, but with a different meaning. So the Oblivion Potion is less known in the wizarding world than the Oblivion Spell, a LOT more complicated, and it's forbidden (or at least, you need to have the Ministry's permission to buy –or brew- even a small amount of it). In small quantities it may be used for dreamless sleep, but it also helps forgetting some upsetting trauma for a certain amount of time. So it's natural to think that Snape uses it for himself (poor Snape, tortured by bad, evil Voldemort!! Bad Voldemort, Bad boy!), without permission of the Ministry of course, but who needs it when you have Dumbledore's? :-)

When Lupin feels like he can't take it anymore, instead of finally facing the death of his best friend, he tries to once again take the easy way out (and can you blame him after all?).

**********  CHAPTER TWO **********

Lupin checked the magic clock on the wall; soon all the others would arrive for the usual Friday night meeting. It wasn't strictly necessary to hold one every week, but that way those who could not be present at one –maybe because they were on a mission or something– were able to attend the next one. People like Dumbledore, or Sacklebolt couldn't attend many of them, because of their jobs; they didn't want to draw unwanted attention to themselves. Anyway, these times were an opportunity for those who showed up to come together, discuss and confront ideas, make choices about future plans, and so on.

Lupin had begun to dread those meetings. And in this particular day, he hoped nobody would start making comments about how thin and tattered he looked –and even then, he knew he wouldn't miss all those stolen glances when they thought he wasn't looking –, because he had an excuse: 'you know, the full moon is coming…'. They'd nod their head, with an 'I see…', and they'd all pretend it was really okay. He'd always thought he hated hypocrisy… but to himself, he  admitted that under these particular circumstances, lying was better.

Having nothing to do, he proceeded to clean the dining room. While dusting off a shelf, he accidentally met his reflection on the cupboard glass, and had to take a step back. He really did look awful. He was thinner, his skin was paler than ever, and the scars on his collarbone were now so evident that he found himself buttoning up his robes to hide them better. His sunken eyes were circled in blue from the lack of sleep, and his cheeks were a bit hollowed out. And his hair… there were some gray strands that hadn't definitely been there a month ago. Gee…he thought with some irony. He looked like a ghost. No wonder he'd almost moved *Snape* to pity!

Well, he didn't really fool himself into thinking that Snape would even consider the idea of giving him some Oblivion. But at least, Tonks had stopped making such a fuss about it. Sure, she'd hoped his 'seeking for help' would involve some opening up to someone… but 'it was a beginning'. 

A couple of days had gone by since the episode in the kitchen, and she still hadn't even mentioned it. But she had become gentler than usual around him, greeting him brightly every time he entered a room, and often hugging him. To make him feel 'less alone'.  He appreciated that, and found it somewhat funny that people had begun to look at them a bit strangely; they probably thought they'd gotten 'closer' in more than a sense, and he himself wondered sometimes.. if things had been different, maybe…

He was lost in thought when he heard the sharp sound of the doorbell ringing. He instinctively grimaced, but relaxed when he remembered Dumbledore had had the old witch's portrait removed a few weeks before. He put the duster away and went to answer the door. In a swirling of pink hair, Tonks flung herself in his arms.

"Hi, Remus!" she exclaimed brightly. He half-grinned, and hugged her back before pulling away. Even after so many years, he still hadn't gotten used to touching people openly. It made him uncomfortable, knowing 'what' he was. They moved aside, and allowed passage to the other wizards and witches.

Dubledore, who looked even older these days, but who still had that undisguised energy and brilliance emanating from his very being and Minerva McGonagall, followed closely by Hagrid, Mundungus Fletcher, Ms Bones, and Bill and Arthur Weasley. Almost the whole members of the Order were here tonight. But…

Snape was nowhere to be seen. Dumbledore himself was a bit puzzled, because the potions master never arrived late, not without a warning. They waited a while, then decided to go on without him. Maybe he'd been delayed. Maybe the Dark Lord was growing restless, and Snape had decided to stick with the Death Eaters to avoid blowing his cover. And although everybody's minds were thinking about it, they knew that discussing it wouldn't change anything, so they soon moved on to other matters.

The meeting didn't last long. The first two weeks after that day at the Ministry had been incredibly busy, as a lot of people finally accepting Voldemort's return had tried to contact the Order, asking to join the fight against the common enemy. Then, the chaos had subsided, and a strange calm had descended upon both sides, as they closed ranks and fell back into line. 'The calm before the Storm', they had begun to call it. Yet, it gave the Order time to catch their breaths. 

They were soon done, and it was Lupin's turn to make coffee, which gave him an excuse to leave the room –away from those stolen glances he hated so much. He found himself wondering what Snape was doing. Was he alright? He'd avoided him long before he realized he needed his help… He now felt ashamed for reacting just as childishly as Harry had done, keeping as further away from the potions master as he could, afraid he might strangle him if he dared to make any inappropriate comments about…

But it wasn't in his nature to hate somebody without particular reasons… Being a werewolf, he knew better than to being prejudiced, or let his emotions take the better of him. In fact, now he thought about it, Snape was in a very dangerous situation… so many things depended on him… In fact, without him, he wasn't sure they had much of a chance against Voldemort. Yeah, they had their plans and all, but it was essential to have fresh information about the enemy every week… 

When he went back to the living room, two trays full of coffees floating in the air behind him, he found that the members of the Order had split into groups, each discussing something different… like gardening, or the most recent ways of getting rid of pixies from one's back-yard.

Pretending everything was okay. 

Pretending, pretending, pretending.

The only person among them who never pretended was Snape, Lupin realized with some irony. The potions master preferred to keep silent instead of opening his mouth to say hypocrisies, and Lupin admired him for that.

Snape chose that exact moment to finally appear. Everyone stopped talking and turned to look at him. Snape's gaze lingered briefly upon Lupin's form –well, he more like scowled at him- then moved to Dumbledore., as he walked up to the old wizard. They exchanged looks, then whispered something. Dumbledore nodded.

"It's okay, everybody. Nothing to worry about. No bad news, not today at least."

Hearing the Headmaster's perfectly confident voice, they all sighed in relief. Even Lupin, who realized that, in spite of himself, he'd been holding his breath. The others resumed their previews conversations, although they kept throwing curious looks in Snape's direction.

Soon Snape grew tired of the unwanted attention –oh, how Lupin understood!- and announced he was going to his room for a while. When he had left the room, Lupin remembered with a pang of guilt that he hadn't found the courage to clean Snape's room because he was afraid of intruding his privacy…

Snape was gone for, like, five or six minutes, when his voice suddenly echoed in the empty corridors.

"Lupin, come here this instant!" Since Lupin had been granted permission to clean the house all by himself –and Mrs Weasley had been hard to persuade- Snape always found something to complain about, just out of spite. Everyone gave Lupin a sympathetic smile, and he shrugged at them before excusing himself, then said he might not join them later that night… he was tired, 'you know, the full moon'.

He crossed the hall, then climbed up the stairs; Snape's room was the last door on the left. Actually, it wasn't really his room, but since he'd started to use it when after a particularly tough mission, no one dared to enter it without permission, with the sole exception of Dumbledore of course.

He knocked politely on the wooden surface. Snape called told him to "come in", and he was beginning to ask what he could do for—but was cut off by the look in the potions master's eyes.

"Close the door, you idiot. Do you want somebody to see us?"

Dumbfounded, Lupin did as he was told.

"What's going –"

"Here." Snape thrust something into his hand. "You mention this to anybody, you're a dead man. Werewolf." He corrected himself.

Lupin looked down at the flask in his hand. He couldn't believe it. It just couldn't be… He lifted his eyes to Snape, thankful beyond words. It was a flask of Oblivion Potion. 

"Th-thank you…I–I owe you, really."

"As a metter of fact, yes, you 'owe' me. I've given them something else to talk about." He scowled. "Not that I care what they think, of course."

"Is there anything I can do? Anything at all? I mean… if there's something wrong…" There must have been *something* delaying him, and even if it was not important, he'd be more than happy to help him, if he ever needed –

He hadn't finished his thought, when Snape said:

"You have what you want. You can leave. I've got things to do."

Lupin caught his drift, and made to leave, then turned around to thank him some more –and Snape shut the door right in his face

"Idiot." He heard him mutter under his breath. He slowly turned to leave and went to his room, which was in the other wing of the house. He needed to hide the potion before someone found about it.

As he closed the door behind him with a sigh though, something occurred to him. Could it be…? That Snape had been late to –to prepare the potion for him? He'd said he didn't had any, three days before… and in fact it took three long days to brew it, and only if you already had the right ingredients (many of which had to be prepared weeks before).

No. Snape would never…would he? 

Or maybe Lupin was just going mad. 

And yet…

He carefully placed the flask in his drawer, the one in which he kept his most private things. He had enchanted it, creating a double space –a bit like Mad-Eye Moody's truck (in fact, it had been the old wizard who had taught him how to do it). He carefully avoided to touch the faced-down photos and the letter he'd put there a month before.

Time after time, feels like I'm fading away

Stopped on a dime, staring into space

And clarity comes, and clarity goes

But for all these epiphanies, I'm still lost…

He didn't want to use the potion straight away. Maybe he'd be able to resist until the full moon… he knew he wouldn't be able to ask Snape some more, he'd done so much for him already… after all, two days were not much, when he'd waited a whole month… right?

I know it's hard, yeah, you've got a complicated scene

They tell you "listen to your heart", yeah

Whatever the hell that means

And whisper they may, but they will anyway

And it's you who'll be living each second in between

Confessions and awakenings

Truthful fiction and the heart of things

He shut the drawer with a loud 'sbam!', and turned his attention to the roll of parchment that lay on his desk. He approached it, and sat down on his chair. 

It was a letter to Harry. Dumbledore had explained him the importance of keeping in touch with him. Harry needed to know there were people out there who loved him, so that maybe his stay at the Dursleys' would be a bit more bearable. Lupin had nodded in agreement; how could he deny a simple thing like that? And yet, it had become more and more difficult. Harry still had a lot of anger inside of him, and Lupin wasn't ready to face his own, let alone that of a teenager full of crazy hormones…

Doing his best, he'd tried to be concise, but not harsh, making sure the tone of the letter was always a bit cheerful. He read it again:

_Dear Harry,_

_                 It's been a while since I last wrote to you: three long days! You know, I've been busy with some super-secret mission lately… ridding the house of a terrible new creature that calls itself Dust. :) No really, I think Mrs Weasley hates me, I've become pretty good at housecleaning, so she can't complain about that anymore…_

How are you? I hope 'they' have learned to behave. If they haven't yet, don't hesitate to write me, and I'll make sure to send Moody and Tonks… those two, together, could convince a house-elf to ask for a three-month *paid* vacation! :) Speaking of Tonks, she told me she's visited you a few times. I bet Mrs Dursley fears her more than the rest of us put together… in fact, Tonks told me how she 'accidentally' tripped on that piece of furniture, knocking down two of Mrs Dursley's most precious vases… :)

Again, you've asked me when you'll be able to leave the Dursleys. I won't point out that now they know they're constantly being watched so they won't treat you half as bad as they used to… but I understand your restlessness. Believe me, it's just a matter of a couple of weeks or so. We have to improve the safety spells on our headquarters, and then you  will be able to join us.

So far, nothing new has happened, and I'm not saying It ' just because'. Really, nothing's happening.

I'm sending you a small present along with the letter, I hope you get it.

Write back, should anything be wrong.

In the meanwhile, take care. And EAT!

Yours sincerely,

                        Remus J. Lupin

Pathetic, he thought. Had there been a contest called 'hypocrisies of the century', he'd have won first price, no question about it. He wrote to Harry as if he was in some sort of wonderful place, instead than a family who hated him and had to be watched twenty-four seven to make sure they didn't hurt him, or throw him out… In fact, Harry had only replied a couple of times so far, and every time his letters consisted of a couple of lines jotted on a torn piece of parchment… all saying the same thing, basically: he wanted to get away from his uncle's house. He'd had enough of them. Some of his anger and pain had subsided, but Lupin knew the boy needed someone to talk with, someone that would *understand* him like Hermione and Ron, or even Dumbledore could not. But he wasn't ready. Not yet.

"Not ever…" he sadly whispered to the empty room, then realized he was walking down a dangerous path and shook himself. 

He was so damn tired… he still couldn't sleep well, and his dreams were more like nightmares, always haunted… at least he was thankful that he never remembered them in the morning. But he knew what they were about anyway.

And if the moment  hums with something deep and low

Hold on, hold on…

And if your timing comes like you're a single soul

Hold on, hold on…

"Stop that!" He said out loud, his temper rising. He tore his letter and threw it into the fire, then kicked the chair with all his might, sending it crashing to the floor.

He suddenly felt drained, realizing it was no use taking it out on the furniture… 

Just then, there was a knock on the door.

"Tomorrow!" he called, distractedly, picking up the chair and setting it up straight in its original position near the desk. Another knock, this time more impatient.

"Go away… I'm not…decent!" He improvised, and it sounded ridiculous even as he said it.

"Well, you'd better put something on, then get your stupid self here and open the door *this instant*, because I'm not waiting any longer." Came the cold reply. Damn, it was Snape.

He sighed and went to the door, opening it. Snape raised an eyebrow at him.

"How quick." He simply said.

"I'm not in the mood, Snape. What do you want?" He grimaced at the harshness of his own tone, and the ugly, unpleasant smile Snape gave him made him feel like a student caught cheating at a potions exam. What had he done wrong?

"Forgot something?" He simply said, ignoring Lupin's harshness.

Lupin looked at him in confusion… and then he understood. Oh. Shit.

"I was waiting for you to come and ask me; maybe I could trust you a bit, I thought. Leave it to me to make that mistake. Here." He handed Lupin the usual bottle with the usual stinky wolfsbane potion inside.

Lupin swallowed hard. This time he had really forgotten all about it… he couldn't go on like that. The Wolfsbane potion had to be taken every day, each of the seven days preceding and following the full moon. With no exception. He took the bottle with shaking hands.

"Merlin, Severus. Thank you. I don't know what's gotten into me lately… I can't think straight anymore." With that, he emptied the bottle in a whole long gulp, while Snape surveyed him with his unreadable charcoal-black eyes.

"At least you didn't take the Oblivion yet. That might have complicated things a bit." Right. Because the Oblivion put everyone who drank it in a kind of comatose state or something, he'd heard. He wasn't sure, but he seemed to recall a book in which it was stressed how the potion had slightly different ways of affecting people.

"No, I…" Lupin searched for words. "I thought I'd wait and see if I can… make it on my own…for a while."

He sounded pathetic, and knew Snape was thinking the same thing.

"Go to bed, Lupin. Get some sleep." He said, and as Lupin's eyes looked at him in surprise, he hastily added: "You're no use to the Order in this conditions. We are all so caught up with keeping Mr Potter safe," and here his voice became even lower, unable to disguise how much he hated the mere mention of the boy's name, "We don't need an aggressive werewolf worsening the situation."

He definitely had a point there, Lupin thought. But what in the world could he do? It was hard enough to live with himself, he surely didn't need someone else to give him 'suggestions'. By Merlin, even Dumbledore had realized it was better to just let him be! At the same time though, he realized that Snape was right. He *was* behaving like a child. He knew what he had to do, but was afraid to do it. No, 'afraid' wasn't the right word. It was 'dread', pure fear like he hadn't felt in a long time…

Lupin snapped back to reality, only to find Snape's eyebrow so arched up that it almost disappeared at the base of his black, greasy hair.

"Sorry. I'm tired." He offered again, lamely. 

Snape looked at him impassively, then glanced at the room behind Lupin. It didn't even look like someone lived there. The essential furniture –a small bed, a table with a chair beside it, and a dresser– looked really old and tattered, but it wasn't Black's. How odd. There were no pictures on the walls, no decorations at all. It looked like a hermit's cave.

The potions master finally spoke up, deliberately ignoring Lupin's pathetic efforts at dismissing him.

"Do you want some Dreamless Sleep potion to take until the full moon? It won't interfere with the Wolfsbane potion." Lupin tried to act as if he'd just been asked the time or something… but inside he was more than just surprised. It wasn't like Snape to actually offer to help people. He thought about it, then shook his head.

"No, than you. Luckily my brain seems to cooperate, at least in this. I either don't dream, or I don't remember them. So it's okay."

"Well, it's impossible that you don't dream at all, so I'll cross out the first possibility, and as far as the second is concerned… I'm afraid our mind slips if we don't take good care of it." He replied, his voice disapproving and professional at the same time. 

"I know. But it's just a phase. It'll pass." Lupin tried to shrug and failed miserably.

"Yes. Keep telling yourself that. But I'm not gonna shed a tear should your transformation be too much for your 'just tired' body. If you don't want to discuss your issues with Dumbledore, at least you should consider taking some Dreamless for a while."

Snape was being as civil as he could with Lupin, and if his mind hadn't been somewhere else, the werewolf would've rejoiced. As it was, though, he just shook his head, running his fingers through his gray-stricken hair.  

"I really don't think…" 

"Suit yourself." Snape said shortly. 'There's no reasoning with this idiot', he'd written all over his face. He turned to leave, but before disappearing in the dark corridor, he said:

"Should you change your mind tomorrow, I'll have some extra Dreamless with me."

Lupin closed the door. Two more nights, and it'd be over, for another month at least. He'd come this far, he couldn't let go just now. After the full moon, everything would be better. Or at least, easier. He knew that from experience. In any case, he'd lock himself up in the cage they'd built for him in the unfortunate possibility that Snape might not be able to prepare him the Wolfsbane potion, and he'd wait for the night to be over. No one would be in the house that night, but he didn't want to risk anyway.

He took off his robes, then lay down on the bed.

He was asleep before his head touched the pillow.

******************

So this was charter Two.

What do you think of it? Sucks? Like it?

Suggestions welcome!!!!!!

Read and Review please!! Thanks in advance if you do.. :)

(or you can e-mail me at sagitta@enaip.fvg.it)

Cheers everybody!

The song is "Hold On" by Mary Beth


	3. Change of Plans aka Unexpected Changes

Author's Notes

1) For the disclaimers read Chapter One, 'disclaimers'

2) I don't know if I pointed this out before: this story is about my three favorite characters from the Harry Potter Universe: Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, and Severus Snape. Mainly, it's about Lupin, so there are hints at a 'missed' slash (he'll realize he's in love with Sirius, but it's too late). But there's some Lupin/Snape friendship too, which means the two wizards will somehow bond at a certain point… and there are many things one can do, with Snape as an ally… even find a way to –alright, I've said enough.  :) Can't say more. :)

3) I'm a real fanfiction junkie, so there might be certain passages or sentences in my story that have already been seen somewhere else. It's not deliberate. I don't do it on purpose. If you in any way feel offended by it (maybe because you are one of the authors) please message me, and I'll do what I can to change the text. 

4) Thanks to Lydia and ElvenWarrior for their extremely nice reviews!!! I really wouldn't know how to write a SS/RL without making them out of character –let's face it, Snape is a tough one!-  Therefore I think I'll settle for a friendship. :) 

********** CHAPTER THREE **********

***** CHANGE OF PLANS aka UNEXPECTED TWISTS*****

Lupin awoke with a start, his hand clenching his chest convulsively. He was breathing heavily. He forced himself to calm down, and when he finally managed to, he tried to remember what the dream had been about, but found out he couldn't. He was torn between wanting to know, and feeling relieved because he couldn't. What a fucked up situation to be in. He'd been falling asleep, then jerking awake, until three or four in the morning, but from then on he'd been able to sleep without waking anymore.

He disentangled himself from the bed sheets and stretched before straightening up. He had to sit back down on the bed. Merlin, what a headache!

Even if he was all sweaty, he slowly pulled on his sweater and went downstairs. He'd be alone the whole day today –although Sacklebolt, Moody and McGonagall were supposed to drop by at some point. Lupin ruffled his hair with a hand, then yawned loudly. It was ten in the morning; he hadn't slept six hours straight in month or so… it was a good sign, although the shadow of his nightmare still bothered him a bit.

He wasn't hungry, so he made himself some hot tea instead, to go with the Relieving Pills he found in a cupboard –'a powerful charm against headaches', read the label– then sat down by the kitchen table, sipping it quietly. He had the whole day free, as he'd already done the whole housework the day before. 

'Well, that should give me time to re-write that letter to Harry.' He thought, relieved that he had found something to do.

Just then, a roll of parchment that lay distractedly on the table across from him caught his attention. Maybe it was a message Dumbledore had left for him… he reached out and opened the paper. It wasn't sealed, he noticed, so it wasn't something urgent, or secret. It read:

"Lupin, there has been a change of plans earlier this morning. I will not be able to come back to Grimmauld Place tonight. Mission. Dumbledore thought you ought to know." Underneath those few lines shimmered still, in black ink, the complex pattern of Severus Snape's signature. Lupin read the message again, searching for further hints that he soon realized weren't there. What had happened? There had been changes of plans before, especially as far as Snape's activities were concerned. He had to be more careful than the others, for obvious reasons. 

So what, Voldemort had finally decided to strike? Damn, Lupin thought, stop being such a pessimist. After all, only a month had passed since the day at the Ministry, and the capture of his most prominent Death Eaters had been a bad blow for the Dark Lord. He too needed some more time to reorganize his forces.

Well, Lupin wouldn't miss Snape. And as for the Wolfsbane potion he wouldn't be able to take, he'd already decided to lock himself up in the cage anyway. He finished drinking his tea, then washed the mug and teapot and was pleasantly surprised to find his headache had subsided a bit, which was a very good thing. He took a quick shower and proceeded to write to Harry. He attached the small package he'd wrapped up in dark green to the owl's leg, and sent him away. Cleaning up one of the rooms, he'd found a couple of pictures of Lily and James, and thought Harry would like to have them.

Or was it the other way around, that maybe *Lupin* didn't want to be around them? 

The day slowly went by. Lupin had picked a book from one of the living room's shelves; he'd taken a small break around one pm in order to eat a small sandwich, but apart from that, when the clock stroke three o'clock, he was still lost in the complicated genealogy of 'the most frightening creatures of all time'. What an interesting point of view the writer had on giants, werewolves and vampires! Lupin had the slight impression that even Snape, who didn't commonly strike people as someone who particularly loved these creatures, would maybe disagree with Mr. Honeysuckle here.

'Werewolves are the most frightening and dangerous creatures of all, because when there's no full moon –and away from expert eyes, I daresay– they look like normal wizards and witches. Of course, an experienced scientist like me could tell twenty feet away one of these this bloody, violent beasts. They are cunning, but not very intelligent. They're usually very dark people, with beast-like features like unusually pointed canines, wolfish grins, tough build and such. They are abrupt with other people, brutish and can become very violent for no apparent reason. They usually don't like cats and…' Lupin had to take a break. Merlin, was this some kind of Lockheart clone or something? He ran his tongue over his canines, just to make sure they weren't 'unusually pointed'. Then he laughed bitterly. He didn't know about the wolfish grins, but not even Trelawney without her glasses would dare to define him as being of 'tough build'…And that thing about werewolves hating cats was actually the funniest thing he'd ever read about his own kind… 

A sudden, cracking noise jolted him away from the book. The noise repeated itself a few times. It was as if someone was trying break the door open or something. He jumped up, extracting his wand from his pocket, his keen senses fully alert. 

If it were someone of the Order, they would know how to open the door… and if they were not, then how the hell had they managed to find the door in the first place? Unless… his throat went dry. No, Dumbledore couldn't have…not even under torture…

He slowly approached the front door. The noises were more insistent now. Suddenly, a female voice came from the outside, a voice he instantly recognized as being Tonks'.

"Remus! Remus, are you there? If you hear me open the door, for Merlin's sake!"

Lupin made some quick-thinking, then unlocked the door and opened it, the wand still clenched in his hand.

He froze at the sight before him. Tonks had McGonagall's keys in her hands, but she was so nervous she hadn't been able to use them. Behind her Sacklebolt and Hagrid were holding a dark, hooded, unmoving shape. Tonks pushed Lupin aside impatiently, making room for the other three to go in

Hagrid and Sacklebolt quickly climbed up the stairs, disappearing in the first floor. Lupin followed them, and to his horror saw them burst into Snape's room. Oh, fuck. He stood at the door, looking inside, thunderstruck, as the two wizards un-hooded the lifeless form of Severus Snape, placing his limp body on the bed.

He saw Sacklebolt extract a piece of parchment from his pockets, then flip through the potions on the desk and shelves. He seemed to find what he was looking for, because he quickly unscrewed the top of the small jar, went back to Snape and as Hagrid lifted the potions master head with his large clumsy hands he forced some of the liquid down Snape's throat. Then they laid him back down, and finally turned towards Lupin.

This seemed to wake him from his trance, because his eyes were suddenly very focused. 

"There was a change of plans this morning," Sacklebolt began, the tension evident in his voice. "He had to go back to Him. Dumbledore contacted me and Hagrid two hours ago, and told us something went wrong. We don't know what happened, although you can imagine what the consequences were…" he gestured towards Snape. "He's been, well… he doesn't look so good, as you can see."

"He's okay though", Hagrid pointed out, seeing how Lupin had paled. "We took him here, an' Tonks helped us out. Dumbledore said he'll be here 'soon as he can… but we have to go now."

Sacklebolt shook his head. "Damn. I hope it's not as bad as the Ministry trick He pulled a month ago…" He swore under his breath, then he seemed to regain his composure.

"We have to go now. Snape won't wake for some time –you can leave him here until Dumbledore arrives. Take care of Tonks though. She's pretty shaken up. We'll see you later." 

And with that, they were gone. Lupin hadn't uttered a single word.

He slowly approached Snape. He was lying there, unmoving… yet, his chest rose and fell –a bit irregularly, but he was alive. Lupin found himself sighing of relief. He tentatively reached out a hand, and brushed the potions master's forhead. It was burning. He wished he could do something to help him, but what?

He'd been standing there a while, when Tonks came into the room, closing the door behind her and leaning on it for support. Lupin approached her.

"What happened?" He demanded. Tonks' eyes tore away from the bed.

"I-don't know. It all happened so fast… Dumbledore called me using the floo network, and told me to come here as soon as I could. When I arrived, I found Kingsley and Hagrid with…" She fell silent.

"What else do you know about him?" 

Lupin realized he was pushing her, and his tone became gentler.

"Never mind. You okay?"

"Hell, I don't know what's upsetting me so much…after all, I've never even liked him…" She said, choking in her words. "It's just that… the thought of what He must've done to…"

Lupin walked up to her, taking her hand.

"It's okay…" He said, but he wasn't convincing at all.

"No it's not, Remus! Hell, and I'm supposed to be an Auror…"

"Hey, stop that. It's not your fault, you couldn't possibly do anything for him. And…well, you knew this was going to happen soon." 'Liar', he thought. 'You had hoped this moment would never come, uh, Lupin?'

After a long moment, Tonks seemed to collect herself, and he pulled away.

"Did Dumbledore tell you some useful information?" He asked, but he already knew the answer. In fact, Tonks shook her head.

"Nope. But I'm not sure I want to know anyway." 

"Alright, then." Lupin said. "Come with me. Let's get some hot tea and calm down, okay?"

Tonks nodded slowly, and they both walked down to the kitchen, where Lupin used magic to make some tea, which he offered her in a big mug, along with some cookies.

"Can I stay here for a while?" She asked timidly at some point. Lupin, who was again lost in thought, looked blankly at her.

"Uh? Oh, sure. Yeah. No problem." Then he hesitantly added: "I-uhm. Would it be a problem if I…"

She smiled then, her first smile that afternoon.

"You go up. I'll be right here." He smiled back gratefully, then turned on his heels and ran back up to Snape's room. He knew Sacklebolt had suggested to let him be, but Lupin…well, you never know how someone could react in a situation like that. And if Snape regained consciousness, or… well, someone had better be there, just in case. He brought with him a pitcher filled with warm water and a small clean cloth, then dragged a chair next to the bed, and sat down. He carefully wet the cloth in the water, then placed it on the other wizard's forhead. He flinched unconsciously, and Lupin almost jumped back, afraid of hurting him. Two long minutes later Snape still hadn't given further signs of discomfort, so Lupin resumed his ministrations, his eyes focused not on the man before him, but on something beyond, far away. He removed the cloth, soaking it with water and placing it back on Snape's forhead every now and then, but apart from that he just sat there on the chair, his arms crossed and his head focused on the wall in front of him.

He didn't know how much time he'd spent in that position, or if he'd fallen asleep or something, but at some point he felt Snape moving. He focused his eyes on him, and realized the potions master's face was screwed up in pain. Was it real pain, or just an unpleasant dream he was having? He bent closer, and called out his name, trying to see if he was awake or not. Snape didn't answer, but his hands clenched and unclenched repetitively as his breathing became more irregular, and a small, barely audible moan escaped his lips. Suddenly he went perfectly still.

Lupin had already started to panic, when Snape chest began to rise and fall, slowly, extremely regularly, almost…deliberately!

He was awake! Lupin's heart leapt in his chest.

"Severus?" he tried again, this time quieter, though he didn't really succeed in keeping the relief away from his voice.

If Snape heard him, he didn't show it.

Suddenly, Tonks' voice reached him from the ground floor.

"Remus, he's here!"

Dumbledore, finally! He checked the gothic clock that hung on the wall in Snape's room, and realized it was much later than he'd thought. Seven pm. Merlin.

"Lupin." A low, coarse voice behind him made him jump. He turned back to Snape. His eyes were still closed, but he was definitely talking. "What… the hell…are you doing here?" He demanded.

Lupin almost burst out laughing. The potions master would never show his soft side to anyone, under *any* circumstance, not if his life depended on it… Sometimes Lupin wondered whether he *had* a soft side at all.

The door opened, and Dumbledore entered the room. He looked extremely worried, but controlled.

"Headmaster" Snape had felt his presence before the old wizard even spoke.

"It's okay, Severus. Do not try and speak yet. There will be plenty of time later." He said as his hand quickly checked the potions master's pulse. Seemingly satisfied, he finally turned to Lupin. His blue eyes were pained, but twinkled up at him nevertheless.

"Nimphadora just told me you spent the last three hours up here." He smiled at the werewolf, who looked around him uncomfortably. He wasn't sure it was okay, and Snape didn't necessarily have to know.

He just shrugged instead, hoping it would do.

"I-must have dozed off at some point, and…" Dumbledore's smile widened.

"Of course." He offered. "How nice of you though. I must apologize for the delay… I would have come sooner, but I had to make sure of some things."

Lupin saw Snape tense in his lying position, and he bit his lip. What the hell had done wrong? Had he been discovered? Would he be okay?

"But as I said," Dumbledore resumed talking. "Later. Your health comes first, I'm afraid. Here, Remus. Give me a hand." He produced a jar from under his robes, and handed it to Lupin, who opened it, careful not to spill any of the content to the floor. The Headmaster fed a third of the liquid to Snape, then closed the lid and put it on the desk.

Snape still refused to open his eyes, and Lupin thought it was time for him to go. 

"Err. I should probably check how Tonks is doing…"

"Please, Remus. Do." Dumbledore said, glancing down at Snape. Lupin walked out, and when he turned to close the door quietly behind him, he caught Snape's unflinching gaze fixed on him.

He swallowed hard, then went down to the living room, his head spinning. He found Tonks sprawled on the sofa, a mug of tea on the table in front of her. Her head was thrown back, her eyes closed. She looked a lot better; so powerful was Dumbledore's mere presence with everybody. He silently approached her, until he was standing up behind her.

"Hi." He said casually. She opened her eyes and found him towering over her.

"Gee, Remus! Don't do that!" She panted, catching her breath. "You scared the hell out of me."

He smiled, mildly satisfied with himself. Serves you right, he thought. She stood and turned to look at him.

"How is he?" 

"He's alive. And he'll be okay soon. Dumbledore brought one of those miraculous concoction of his. He'll be alright in no time."

"Brilliant." She said brightly.

"Are you spending the night here tonight?" He asked her. "If you want, you can take one of the dozens spare rooms we have."

"Thank you," she shook her head. "I'd love to, but I'm already late. I wouldn't want to arouse anybody's suspicions with my sudden disappearance."

"That's okay. You staying for dinner then?"

She declined politely, then collected her coat, kissed his cheek and was off. 

Dumbledore joined him in the living room soon afterwards.

"How is he?" Lupin found himself mirroring Tonks' earlier question.

"You know Severus. He's tough." Dumbledore simply said, but now that he wasn't with him anymore, he wore his worry more openly. "Nevertheless, this should not have happened."

"What shouldn't have happened? What's going on?"

"That, I believe, is a thing between Severus and Voldemort. The fewer know about it, the better it is, for his safety." Lupin nodded, but he didn't feel a lot better.

"Well, I suppose I could tell you some of it, just because you happened to spend the last three hours by his side –which by the way I really appreciated, and I'm sure he did too. It is partly as you fear. Severus had to 'fail' one of the missions Voldemort appointed him, and as we both know he is not the forgiving type. But this was irrelevant mostly, as it was a mission doomed to fail in any case. No, the problem is another. This time, he crossed someone he shouldn't have."

Lupin saw listening intently. 

"He did? But… Shouldn't he know better than… I mean, he shouldn't risk too much, no matter what Voldemort demands that he do…" He fell silent. What had Voldemort asked Snape to do? 

"Remus. I think he knew exactly what he was doing. But Voldemort doesn't like quarrels among his followers, for obvious reasons."

"Quarrels?" He furrowed his brow. Dumbledore had said he'd crossed the wrong person, and Lupin had assumed he meant Voldemort…right?

"He said some things Bellatrix Lastrange did not appreciate. And here he is."

Lupin looked at Dumbledore, thunderstruck. Long moments passed before he found his voice again.

"What did he-" He began, but Dumbledore held up a hand and he fell silent again.

"That, as I said, is up to Severus to tell, if he wishes to."

The old wizard's eyes were fixed on the werewolf's, behind the silver circles of his glasses. Lupin swallowed.

"Alright." He said finally, his voice a bit croaky. He didn't trust himself to speak anymore.

"Well. I am afraid I have to leave again, Remus. I have some things I need to settle at Hogwarts, otherwise it will not be easy to convince parents to give up their children next year." He explained, and stood to leave.

Lupin showed him to the door, still silent. 

"It is okay for you to go and see him, if you wish to –it should do him some good. And remember, he has to take another third of the potion around midnight, and the rest –but I reckon he will be okay by then –around five in the morning. I'll see you soon, Remus."

After Dumbledore had left, Lupin stood there, still, his eyes fixed on the closed front door. With Snape in those conditions, his mind had been busy and focused in the matter at hand, but now… two simple words, and he'd been painfully brought back to reality. Bellatrix Lastrange. He had managed to keep her out of his mind most of the time, but now… he couldn't stop thinking about her.

He'd always been considered a mild person, all his life. But he wasn't sure there were *words* in whichever language that would describe exactly what he'd do to that witch, if he only had a chance to. Screw the law… he'd kill her slowly, making sure she suffered every *second* of it. 

Her, and *Peter*.

They had to pay. Had to pay for what they did to–

'Okay,' he forced himself to breathe deeply, and calm down. He couldn't let go. He'd sworn he would wait till after the full moon. And Snape…

Right! Snape. Think of Snape, keep your mind busy. Dumbledore asked you to look after him until he was back. It's a mission, like any other, and has to be accomplished. There is no one else here, so you're gonna have to do it. He's hurt and he needs your help, no matter how much he denies it. He wasn't sure he was in the position to help anyone. But it was an excuse to *do* something, as opposed to being left alone with himself, brooding.

He made some tea, then paced the kitchen back and forth before finally finding the courage to go up. When he did, he knocked on the door nervously and waited, suddenly half-hoping Snape wouldn't answer.

******************

Ta daaaa! This was chapter three… (by the way, I edited chapter 2, as there were many mistakes… hope I eliminated them all…)

Just out of spite…

1) Oblivion Potion  (is my far the strongest and most dangerous potions, and is forbidden)

2) Dreamless Sleep Potion (that's less effective, and far more simple to brew.)

Hope you liked it! Review please!!

(or e-mail me at _sagitta@enaip.fvg.it_ )


	4. Glimpse of Trust?

Author's Notes

1) First of all, a heartfelt 'thank you' to those who reviewed. I love you guys!!!

2) Gee… I hate to say it… but I'm afraid Snape has gone WAY out of character (I hate it, believe me, I'm always the first who criticize out-of-character characters).

It's just that if I wanted to make the story believable, I had to dig deeper into the minds of the characters… Hope it didn't turn out too bad….. anyway let me now what you think of it!!! ^__^

********** CHAPTER FOUR **********

"Yes?" Came the annoyed reply from behind the closed door.

"I-uh. I brought you some tea. Dumbledore said…" He tried.

"Mmph." It sounded suspiciously like an invitation to go in. 

He twisted the doorknob and entered slowly, trying not to spill the content of his tray with his shaking hand. Damn, he had to stop making tea in every occasion… he was beginning to hate the mere smell of it. 

Snape was in the same position as before, but the cloth had disappeared from his forhead, and some color had returned to his face. Both were good signs. His eyes were more lively than ever.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

"How do you think I am feeling?" Was the sarcastic answer. Good. Sarcasm was Snape's middle name, so he was really feeling better. Lupin half-smiled.

"Good. Is there anything I can…"

"Dumbledore told you, did he not?" Snape cut him off.

Lupin shifted uncomfortably.

"Not all. Just the main, uh, facts."

Snape closed his eyes briefly, and when they opened again they were fixed on the ceiling above him.

"So, you came to laugh at my stupidity?"

"You know that's not why I'm here, Severus." Lupin shook his head.

"Right. You brought tea."

Okay. This was getting awkward. He had hoped Snape would be a little more –understanding, under these circumstances. 

"I did." He said simply, sighing. "You want some?"

"I suppose." Snape gave in. He slowly sat up, swearing under his breath as his hurt muscles refused to cooperate; but he raised a hand to keep Lupin away when he made to help him.

When the potions master found a position that wouldn't pressure his injured limbs too much, Lupin gave him a cup of warm tea, with 'no sugar, thank you', and poured some for himself too. Then he sat down on the chair a few feet away from the bed.

They sipped it quietly, each apparently lost in thought, but actually being very conscious of the other's presence. It wasn't necessarily a bad feeling, Lupin realized.

"So." Snape broke the silence after a while, as the clock stroke ten pm. "Made up your mind about the Dreamless Sleep potion yet?" He casually inquired, his voice still a bit croaky.

"Yes, I have." 

"And?"

"And… I'm afraid my answer is no. Again." Lupin tried to make it clear he didn't want to go further into that conversation. Of course Snape, stubborn bastard as he was, persisted.

"But…why?" The potions master's brow was furrowed. "You were ready to take the Oblivion, I can't see why you're so skeptic about the Dreamless." He'd taken it as a kind of personal insult, Lupin thought.

He wanted to just get up and walk out, but he didn't miss Snape's once again fast breathing. The wizard was in pain, and if talking distracted him in some way… well, Lupin wanted to help in any way he could.

"I'm not skeptic about it. I just…" He paused trying to find the right words, then decided the truth was better and far less complicated. "I want to make it without that stuff. The Oblivion is just… well, let's say I'll use it only if I need it. And I mean, really need it. So of course, the day after the full moon will be perfect. But you know what? Maybe  I won't even need it." He added, more as to convince himself rather than Snape. Yes, because the Oblivion wasn't a thing one just asked, without truly meaning to use it. And Snape knew it. He'd been moved on some kind of level by Lupin's request, and he certainly wouldn't have gone through so much just to brew him some of that potion, if he thought Lupin would not attempt using it.

"Did you talk with Dumbledore?" Snape asked, his gaze fixed on the wall opposite the bed while he put the cup down to the bedside table.

"I told you. He's got more important things to do at the moment. I can deal with this."

"The Headmaster has always time for everyone." He said, matter-of-factly.

"Then maybe I don't want his help." Lupin realized too late that his tone had been a bit harsh.

"That explains a lot." Snape nodded briefly, as though it was something he'd always suspected.

"I mean. It's for me alone to deal, Severus. And that's something I can't do right now. I'm not ready. Now can we talk about something else, please?" Lupin tried again, surprised by his own earnestness. 

Snape glanced at him then, his eyes glittering with something Lupin couldn't quite place. He noticed the potions master's fists were clentched.

"Do you know why that bitch was so mad at me?"

Lupin started, both for the unexpected question and because Snape had actually never uttered the word 'bitch' in front of him. He just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak.

"Insubordination." He said, through gritted teeth.

Lupin looked at him questioningly.

"I informed her of my utter disappointment on how she had handled the situation at the Ministry… How she had not even been able to kill a fifteen-year-old boy…" He made a small pause, as if he was –ashamed?– of what came next. "…and how she made a fool out of herself, showing off like that for taking down a man who was anyway considered to be on the Dark Lord's side. Not a smart move, considering she's just managed to clear his name…"

Lupin was suddenly on his feet, staring in shock at the potions master. But Snape was going to finish what he'd started to say.

"If we'd been able to demonstrate that Dumbledore was hiding him, we might have been able to fuss the Ministry over, turning it against Dumbledore. The Dark Lord didn't like it one bit, and Lastrange… well, let's say she didn't enjoy being criticized like that…"

Lupin bit his lip until he drew blood, striving to keep calm.

"Why are you telling me this?" he demanded.

"You were just dying to know, Lupin, weren't you?"

"Why? Why did you say those things? It's not like you at all." Lupin forced the words out of his mouth, the anger making him more earnest. But he managed to sit down again.

"You would be surprised." Snape answered bitterly, as if he had been shocked too at the words he'd had the nerve to utter in front of Bellatrix Lastrange.

Suddenly Lupin felt tired. So damn tired. Either he calmed down *now*, or he'd burst. He opted for the first. He sighed, closing his eyes, going back to his normal self.

"I appreciate what you're trying to tell me, Severus. I really do. I just-it's too much. I'm not ready to talk about it."

He shrugged earnestly. "Call me childish. Call me all you want."

"Coward?" Snape suggested matter-of-factly.

"Yeah. I think that's the word." Lupin agreed, then stood up again. "I'm gonna make you some dinner. I'll be back in half an hour."

He made to leave, but Snape called him back.

"Do you really think I'll want to be anywhere near food for the next twenty hours?" Snape's annoyed voice was back.

"Well, you've got to eat something. Dumbledore said…"

"Yeah, look who's talking. A few more weeks and we might hang your head along with the other house-elves'. 

"I'll be back in half an hour." Lupin said firmly, and was gone.

*****

As soon as he was out, Snape inhaled deeply, his fists clenching to his sides. Merlin, but it hurt! Of course, he knew how to control himself perfectly when others were around… it had taken him years of practice. Luckily, when he was alone he allowed himself a bit more freedom. He cursed under his breath, his hand gripping the fabric in his chest. He felt like his lungs had been crushed by a troll sitting on him. They were only slowly starting to function properly. Also, his throat was dry from all the talking, and his head was spinning like mad. 

At least the Headmaster's potion had gotten rid of the main sore feelings in his limbs and back… nevertheless, he had to find something else to focus on, rather than his pain.

And there was his mind, drifting back to the wizard who had just left the room. His only living sworn enemy. The person who'd watched after him the whole day.

In quite a state, the werewolf was. A few weeks, and he'd truly be able to pass right through doors. 

Dumbledore had warned him, but… Stubborn as he was, the brat was willing to waste away rather than face the facts. 

Snape would never admit it to himself, but he sort of admired Lupin for that. 

Was this the reason why he'd told the other wizard about his argument with Lastrange? 

But most of all, why did he suddenly care? Well, it wasn't like he actually cared… but he felt less detached than usual, and hated every second of it. He just wished the werewolf would get a grip on himself and accept Black's death. He'd accepted it once, after all…

The truth was, Lupin had always been mild and submissive, even coward. He remembered how he hated him for that, as a boy. And as a defense against the dark arts teacher too –if not more. And yet, no matter how he was being treated by other people, the werewolf never lost his pleasant, forthcoming attitude. He was the only one besides Dumbledore who hadn't fallen for Snape's sarcasm and cynicism. And that *was* definitely something. Then again, maybe it was just guilt over their school-days grudge…

In any case, everyone had thought Lupin's mild nature was just that: his nature. 

The last month had proved everyone wrong. The change in the werewolf had been startling. He'd become even closer than he had been, and had lost every light he once had in him. Snape saw how people had become more and more worried about him. But in the end they'd all given up –even Dumbledore had let him be– thinking he needed to sort out his own pain by himself. And what a surprise it had been to all, discovering it had been much easier to deal with 'wise old Lupin', rather than with 'sad new Lupin'.

But Snape knew better now. Lupin was *not* going to confront Black's death, if he could help it. And by doing that, he would become a ghost. The ghost of his former self. 

Life had not been kind to the werewolf, Snape had to admit it, so what was the use in worsening the situation by destroying what strength he had left with nasty comments and snappy comebacks?
    
    You were searching for a soul
    
    Tearing yourself apart
    
    Just to become a whole oh
    
    You were walking down the road
    
    Only to find your reflection
    
    In the puddles below

Snape had kept many secrets in his life. He definitely recognized one when he saw it in other people. He might not know what the secret was about, but he always had this fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach. Just like every time he caught Potter doing something he shouldn't have done… he always knew when the boy was lying, the stupid useless brat.

But what did Lupin have to hide? Why didn't he just wear his pain openly? Was he afraid of what others would think of him? 
    
    Uh oh you're soul searching
    
    I see that dangerous look in your eyes
    
    Uh oh you're soul searching
    
    But is a soul really worth your whole life

What was he struggling against?

Gee, he was one of the apples of Dumbledore's eyes, just like any other Gryffindor… just like Granger, Weasley and Potter were, and Black and Potter senior had been before them. Yes, the headmaster definitely had a soft spot for them. 

And they all ran to him for comfort, whenever something went wrong, whenever they felt they couldn't face something alone. Hell, hadn't Snape himself done that, too often than he could count?

Yet, Lupin didn't. He seemed to have cut bonds with *everybody*.

Snape had never had friends. Not actual, true friends. Was that a normal reaction Lupin was experiencing, at having lost his?
    
    In these circles you seem to go
    
    Never finding the centre
    
    Never finding your way home
    
    And do you ever see yourself
    
    When you look in the mirror
    
    Or is it a reflection of everyone else
    
    So, yeah. He'd only started to talk with Lupin because Dumbledore had wanted him to –and let's face it, it was a lot better than dealing with Black. 
    
    But now, he had gotten somewhat curious about this new side of the werewolf. So different from the idea of him he'd pictured in his head during Pothead's third year… 
    
    So many things he couldn't understand…
    
    And there's a part of me that
    
    Wants to shake you
    
    And tell you there's no such thing
    
    As a soul anyway
    
    It was almost funny. Only two years ago he'd been ready –not to mention more than happy– to hand him to the Dementors along with Black. And while his feelings for the latter hadn't really changed –'and yet you defended him against Lastrange, didn't you?' teased a voice inside his head– he had come to think of Lupin as a valuable wizard. A person, not just a 'werewolf' anymore. Not 'the' werewolf anymore, the beast, the monster who'd almost killed him years before. He'd discussed him with Dumbledore many times, and with himself even more.
    
    Did he dislike Lupin because he'd been a Marauder or because he regretted the way they'd treated Snape at school? He didn't want anybody to feel sorry for him, that enraged him more than other people's hate ever could. But how could someone stay mad at Lupin for more than a couple of days? Even Moody seemed to be less…moody, when Lupin was around. Or at least, he used to, because now it was another story.
    
    Snape knew he should *hate* him, fiercely, for all the good he had in him. Instead, he simply 'disliked' him. Maybe because he didn't carry it around with the same self-absorbed, big-headed attitude the others two had…
    
    He disliked him and respected him at the same time. 
    
    How Dumbledore had smiled at that realization!
    
    *******************
    
    Lupin exited the room silently, then stopped for a second, and heard muffled growls coming from the inside. Snape was a good actor, he had to give him that, pretending to be okay when he was actually in such pain.
    
    Lupin was really impressed. Self-control was something he'd had to deal with everyday of his life, so he understood what it meant. All the more remarkable was the fact that Snape endured *physical* pain without blinking. 
    
    The wizard quickly went downstairs. 'I'll let you breathe for some time, Severus', he thought, as he went to the kitchen and began to prepare some food. Luckily, Mrs Weasley had left quite an amount of food easy to prepare with the simple wave of a wand. And considering how little Lupin had eaten in these past few weeks, it was no wonder the food was almost all still there. 
    
    The wizard prepared some sandwiches, then busied himself in the kitchen for some time, he even checked the corridors of the house and the hall , just out of spite. But after thirty-five minutes or so, he found himself forced to go back and check on Snape. He doubted he'd be able to get the potions master to actually eat something, but if he left there a tray with the food, he might want to taste something later that night. 
    
    He tried to avoid thinking about something in particular, but of course his mind kept on going back to Snape's words. Why the hell had he let such a comment slip at the presence of Bellatrix Lastrange, if he wasn't even ready to day it out loud to any of the members of the Order? Well, he'd just told him to Lupin, hadn't he.
    
    No, he wouldn't think about it. He'd understood what Snape had meant. He just wasn't going to process it now. One day to the full moon. Then he'd take the Oblivion and get some much needed sleep, and then…then what? What would happen next?
    
    He ate a small sandwich, than put the rest on a dish and placed them on the tray, along with some plain water. After the potion and that damn tea, he reckoned Snape would only stand drinking water –besides, the potion made the throat and mouth very dry.
    
    He slowly climbed up the stairs, but when he was a few feet away from Snape's door, he made sure he was walking loudly, pounding his feet on the ground, as to make the potions master know he was about to go in.  
    
    He got to the door, and knocked on it. No answer came this time, and after debating whether to just leave or go in anyways he opted for the latter. He softly pushed the door open…
    
    *******************
    
    Damn, Snape thought, as a pang of pain ran through his right leg, and he hissed in pain. The effects of the potion were wearing off. He checked the watch: eleven pm. Time to take some more of that miraculous liquid. He slowly sat up on the bed, his back protesting at the increased pressure as he tried to stand up; his limbs refused to cooperate, and his head almost had him tumbling over. He gripped one of the bedposts as tightly as he could. Maybe he'd underestimated the bitch's skills at delivering Cruciatus Curses. He gritted his teeth, but didn't sit back down.
    
    He manage to stumble to were his desk was, and his shaking hands found the jar with the precious concoction. The dark green liquid had barely touched his dry lips, when another sharp pain seized his right arm. He fell to his knees, his mind fogged, his left hand tightened around his right forearm. How could it be? So soon…? He then lost track of things for a moment.
    
    When things became clearer, he realized he was not alone in the room anymore. Lupin had just come in, a tray full of food in his hand. 
    
    "Severus." he put the tray down and rushed to him as fast as he could. 
    
    'When will he learn not to call me by my first name?' was all the potions master could think of, clearly angered at the intrusion. He didn't need help. And most of all he didn't need Lupin to see him like this. No, sir. No way.
    
    *******
    
    "Hold back." The wizard warned Lupin, his voice low and dangerous, as the werewolf approached him.
    
    "Here, let me help you." He offered him a hand, but Snape pushed it away. 
    
    "I said hold back." He repeated, while struggling to get up again.
    
    Lupin sighed and straightened up, reaching out for the potion instead.
    
    "Sit down on the bed." He said, then his brow furrowed as he realized that Snape was clutching his right arm.
    
    "Is Vol–is He summoning you?" He was taken aback too. 
    
    Snape decided to just ignore his presence. He slowly rolled up his sleeves and began to examine his arm carefully. The Dark Mark was there, still visible against Snape's pale skin, but it was no longer throbbing; a sign, this, that the Death Eater was not being summoned to the Dark Lord. 
    
    They both came to the conclusion that it must be Snape's body reacting to the series of Cruciatus he had endured. Snape seemed to relax visibly, though he still gritted his teeth in pain; and Lupin sighed again, this time from relief. 
    
    "The potion. You'd better take it straight away." He carefully handed it to Snape, who took it with shaking hands, and drank the due amount in three long sips. Lupin caught it soon afterwards, and put it back on the desk where it was safe. Snape sank back on the bed, his hands clutching the mattress at his sides, the Dark Mark of a dark shade of pale in his ashen arm. Somehow Lupin couldn't tear away his eyes from it.
    
    After a few moments, during which Snape's breathing slowed down to normal, the potions master looked up and saw the other wizard's gaze fixed on the Mark.  
    
    Lupin cast his eyes down, heat creeping up his cheeks. Snape looked at him, an ugly smile twisting his lips.
    
    "Wondering what it feels like, are you?" 
    
    "No." Lupin said softly, but knowing in advance Snape would not believe him.
    
    "Feeling sorry for me, then?" 
    
    Suddenly old Snape was back. It was as if the Mark had reminded him where his place was– as a spy, a double-crosser, a dark wizard. A self-loathing, cynic pureblood who hated half-breeds and mudbloods.
    
    "Don't put words in my mouth, Severus." Lupin replied firmly. 
    
    It wasn't curiosity, what drew his gaze to the Dark Mark. No. It was… how to explain it… It represented the reason why he was stuck in this whole situation, the reason why he kept spending night after night laying awake in bed, unwilling to give in to sleep for fear that his emotion might take the better of him.
    
    Snape seemed to get it, though, because he fell silent again. He stuck out his forearm and stared at it for a long moment, almost as if he was seeing it for the first time. Almost. He was considering something. Strange how he didn't feel ashamed to have it there, all gray and burning, for Lupin to see. 
    
    "So what's it feel like?" The werewolf's voice sank to a whisper.
    
    Snape looked up at him, startled. Then he became sober again. He seemed to be doing some hard thinking.
    
    "I think I'll spare you for tonight." He answered resolutely.
    
    Lupin started to say something, but Snape cut him off.
    
    "Ask me some other time. Trust me, you do not want to hear what I have to say after being subjected to a Cruciatus. I've taken the potion. You can go now."
    
    He was determined to end the conversation right there, right then. Lupin knew arguing would be absolutely useless. But maybe it was better this way, he thought as he slowly made for the door. Maybe it's true that I don't wanna hear.
    
    "Goodnight, Severus." He said, knowing Snape would not answer. "The sandwiches are on the tray if you get hungry. And I reckon you'll manage to finish the potion." 
    
    Snape glared at him with that I'm-not-the-childish-brat-you-idiot-(you are!)-look of his.
    
    That night Lupin lay awake for a few hours, thinking about nothing but the housework he was going to do the next day, until exhaustion overtook him and he fell into a troubled sleep.
    
    ************************************

NOTE: So I introduced a piece from Snape's mind, did you notice? I feel like I owe you an explanation for that… If this fanfic is about Lupin, and his sole focus is on 'avoiding thinking about Sirius', I felt like I needed to picture his character from another point of view, one that wasn't his own. After much thinking, I thought it would be better to just use Snape. 

First of all, you know Snape, he would never do anything unless either he gains something by doing it, OR there is something concerning Dumbledore. And secondly, my future chapters will be about Snape doing Lupin a favor. A HUGE one, in fact. So I had to build some background on that. Snape wouldn't just wake up one day with the idea of helping Lupin out –especially when he's considered him his enemy for 30 years…

Then I thought. Lupin is distraught. No one seems to know how to deal with that, though. They're too afraid to find out what's behind those sad eyes of his. To them, he's unreadable. But so is Snape. And this is a huge thing they have in common. 

And if I can make Snape feel like he's in debt with Lupin…or even better, just make him feel sorry for the poor werewolf… then it's done! 

I hope what I just wrote made some sense… ^__^

PS Hope you didn't find the song piece too creepy… even though it was from Snape's POV, I think it suited Lupin 'seen from the outside' quite well… the next chapter, of course, will deal with the 'insides'.
    
    The song was "Soul Searching" by Chantal Kreviazuk.

READ AND REVIEW PLEASE!!!


	5. Lupin's Dream aka Calm Before the Storm

Author's Notes:

1) A big, HUGE thank you to those of you who reviewed! That really keeps me going!

2) Sorry about the format of the previews chapter, I tried to change it several time, but it just wouldn't work… but you can just copy and paste the text in a blank Word document, and it'll be a lot easier to read, I promise! :)

3) I've decided to throw in all the beautiful songs that gave me the idea for each different situation… they might not make sense in the contest, but I assure you…to me they do make perfect sense. This fanfic is 40% shaped on these songs I've been listening to. Some, I have to say, I chose not for the music as for the beautiful words… if the writing gets too heavy and hard to follow, please say so…

**************** CHAPTER FIVE ***************

******* LUPIN'S DREAM ********

At first he didn't know where he was. He tried to look around. Nothing but darkness.

Then, a small light, far away.

He cautiously walked towards it; he felt drawn to it more and more with every step. It was small, but he realized it was extremely important that he reach it. And suddenly it was all he wanted. To reach that small light and touch it, and see where it lead. It was like a quest for his aching soul.

Not without some effort, he stopped and glanced back from where he had come from; and suddenly there were people. People he knew, mostly. Molly, Dumbledore, Arthur, McGonagall… and Harry. Not far from them, a dark hooded figure.

They looked happy, and confident, and so inviting. They had smiles on their faces, and their eyes told him they wanted him to go back.

He tried to smile himself and step towards them… yes, this was the right thing to do. Those people loved him and he loved them. He knew it wouldn't be the same without that small flickering flame, but at least it would be something sure. His life would not be complete, but hey, if he pretended to be happy, maybe after some time he would really convince himself he was…

I took their smiles and I made them mine

I sold my soul just to hide the light

And now I see what I really am

A thief, and a liar

He was about to join the group, when he *felt* the light beginning to fade. He abruptly turned to it, and saw that indeed it was growing fainter. It had almost disappeared. No, this was not what he'd wanted! What was going on? Why did he have to choose? He glanced back and forth. He saw that his friends were not smiling anymore; instead, they were looking at him quite disapprovingly. Dumbledore was shaking his head in clear disappointment. The dark figure wasn't looking directly at him, but Lupin knew black eyes were studying him from beneath the hood.

And as he stood there thinking hard, the light grew ever smaller… and Lupin suddenly felt cold, cold like he'd never been in his entire life. It almost froze him to the spot.

Then, in a split second, he made up his mind. He knew what he had to do. He had to reach the light before it was too late. He'd come back to his friends later…but if he didn't manage to, they would be fine without him. He tried not to think about the bespectacled boy with the big, sad, emerald eyes as he turned his back on him.

The light was almost extinguished. He glanced back one last time and saw his friends had gone. They hadn't waited for him. As he felt himself become colder and colder, he realized he had to reach for the light, now or never.

I run to you

Call out your name

I see you there, farther away

He ran for what felt like hours, and still the light appeared farther away. He tried to reach for it, but it seemed to just slip through his outstretched fingers. He was beginning to feel numb, now, too. His heart was like a heavy stone in his chest, beating ever slower…

I'm numb to you, numb and deaf and blind

You give me all but the reason why

I reach out but I feel only air at night

Not you, not love, farther away

And then he finally grabbed the light with his hand, imprisoning it in his fist. He laughed, triumphantly… he'd reached it. Everything would be okay. The light would warm your heart now. He opened his palm to examine it closer…

…and there was nothing but thin air. A bare warmth in his fingers was the only reminder of the flickering red flame.

Again, everything was darkness. He couldn't see anything. Just the cold, and the black surrounding him. 

He'd failed. He sunk to his knees, feeling old and tired and purposeless. 

Don't leave me here by myself

I can't breathe

The rumble in his chest slowed down once again, and… suddenly his heart wasn't beating anymore.

He wasn't dead. He was emptied of all emotions but sorrow… but he wasn't dead. Would he stay like this for the rest of eternity? Would he ever find his way back?

Lupin jerked awake. His hand flew to his chest, to make sure his heart was beating. Actually, it was beating so fast he thought it might explode. He must have had another…another of those dreams.

He tried to remember… some flashes, brief images swam in the fog of his mind… and suddenly he got a pretty definite idea of that…nightmare. His head throbbing like mad, he tried to roll out of bed, but landed on the floor with a loud *thud* and a sudden sharp pain shot through his right ankle. 

I'm so tired of being here

Suppressed by all my childish fears

If you have to leave

I wish that you would just leave

Cause your presence still lingers here

And it won't leave me alone

He cursed under his breath, then gripped the bedpost and straightened up. Surprisingly, he felt his head clear up a bit. He walked out his room, ignoring the pain and instead putting his weight on his right foot on purpose. He passed by the room he'd locked up a month before, the key of which now lay purposely forgotten at the bottom of his most private drawer. No one had yet set foot in that room, because Lupin had forbidden it. He tried not to think about it as he flung himself in the bathroom without even bothering to lock the door, and turned on the water in the shower, as cold as he managed, then stepped in without taking his clothes off. His palms came to rest on the cool wall, his head hung between his shoulders. 

These wounds won't seem to heal

This pain is just too real

There's just too much that time cannot erase

But you still have all of me

The water was icy, but he didn't care. At least his mind was distracted. He spent a few minutes in there, and when he was satisfied he stepped out of it, and out of the bathroom, not caring about the pools of water he left behind him on the floor. 

His now soaked hair was plastered to his face, as his clothes were to his body. He stopped in front of the big mirror hanging on the corridor, and examined his face.

You used to captivate me by your resolute mind

Now I'm bound by the life you left behind

Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams

Your voice has chased away all the sanity in me

I tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone

But though you're still with me (in my heart)

I've been alone, all alone

Was it really him, that stranger staring back at him? He couldn't believe it. He looked awful, but still, he felt even worse inside. His ribcage could be seen through the clothes. A *ghost* would look better off than him, right now. He ached to just vent out…

No. The full moon was tonight. He couldn't let go, not yet. 

It was very early in the morning, he could feel it. He hadn't slept more than a couple of hours. Five, six in the morning? He didn't even  have to check the clock. Without bothering to push the dripping hair away from his eyes, he snuck a last glance at the mirror before turning away abruptly. No more of this- he had work to do. Housework, to be exact. And he had to change into dry clothes.

But he needed some hot coffee first. He went down to the dark kitchen, and while he waited for the coffee to be ready, he took two Relieving Pills. He had his back to the door, so when a sudden noise reached his ears, he jumped.

Turning around, he saw the dark silhouette of Snape's form leaning casually against the doorframe. He let out a sharp breath…he'd forgotten all about the potions master…

Snape advanced in the room, and Lupin realized he was looking at him with a mixture of surprise –up was the famous eyebrow– and disapproval. 

"Went out for a walk?" was Snape's sarcastic comment. It had been raining heavily for days now.

"I just showered." Lupin answered, turning his back on him again, and pouring himself some coffee as if standing there all dripping with icy water was a normal thing to do.

"Right."

"I didn't know you too were awake." He said, trying to disguise the discomfort he was feeling at being caught under such strange circumstances. 

"Yeah, well. I didn't feel like sleeping."

"How are you feeling? A little better, I should hope." He felt a bit guilty. He'd forgotten Snape had just recovered from a bad series of Cruciatus and Merlin-knew-what-else…

"Yes. Better. It's not like I haven't been through this before." The potions master replied casually. Lupin turned to look at him, wishing he had Snape's cold blood.

"And let's hope it won't happen anytime soon." He said truthfully.

"Very unlikely, but yes, let's 'hope' so." Snape uttered the word 'hope' with a flat tone, as if it held no true meaning for him. Lupin emptied his mug of coffee.

"You want some?" He offered, but Snape shook his head, suddenly looking tired.

"No, I took the rest of the potion less than two hours ago. "

"Are you hungry?"

"Ate some of your sandwiches. Though now you mention it, you look like you need them more than I do." Snape said simply. Lupin ignored him.

"I'm going to change now." He said, lifting the hem of his soaked sweater and staring at it as if it held the answers to life, but somehow unable to move.

"I have to go." Snape stated, causing Lupin to look up. 

"So soon? But I thought–"

"Unfortunately, when you are in my position, you are expected to have a *flexible* timetable… but no, this time it's not Him. I'm going to have a talk with Dumbledore. We need to discuss a couple of issues."

Lupin nodded, then smiled tiredly. 

"And then? Will you be back or…"

"Just to get a few things, and then I will hopefully spend the rest of the week at Hogwarts. By the way. I'm leaving you some Dreamless. Use it today. You haven't drunk the Wolfsbane potion last night, and this might help." Lupin nodded. 

"I know. But I was thinking about locking me up anyway, so…"

"I am leaving you some Dreamless." Said Snape again, as if the matter had been settled, his black eyes daring Lupin to reply. Lupin finally agreed, defeated.

"Whatever" He shrugged, then swept past Snape and out of the kitchen.

Lupin went up to his room, and picked some clothes randomly from the closet. He changed, without bothering to put on his robes afterwards. He quickly toweled his hair dry, then hung his wet pants and sweater on the chair and went back down. Snape were nowhere to be seen. 

"Maybe he's gone already." He thought, looking around in the kitchen. Just then, the potions master came back, with the small flask of Dreamless.

Lupin rolled his eyes, but Snape ignored this.

"Here, take it."

"Nope. Not a good idea." 

"I said, take it. Right now. In front of me." 

Lupin stopped in his tracks, his gaze flying up to meet Snape's steady one.

"Are you kidding me?"

"I don't joke, Lupin. You know I never joke. But since you didn't drink the Wolfsbane yesterday due to my unfortunate accident, I feel somehow *obliged* –something told Lupin Dumbledore had had a say in all this– to give you something that might make up for it. Now, I sincerely doubt you could take the transformation tonight, unless you agree to drink this. It will merely let you sleep, giving your body time to recover some strength before…"

He was explaining it the way he might've explained it to a very inexperienced student, as if it was the only logical thing to do and there was nothing that would convince him otherwise. Lupin laughed bitterly, cutting Snape off. If there was one thing Snape hated, it was being interrupted by someone. He gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing.

"I'm sorry, Severus, but I think locking me up will do. Wolfsbane or no wolfsbane."

"Maybe…" Snape tried to keep his voice down. "Maybe you think you know better than me… and I hoped you would, since you've been in this… 'state', for quite a few decades now. Well, let me tell you something. You are in no condition to face a transformation tonight, as it is."

Seeing as Lupin was stubbornly refusing to take the flask from the table where Snape had placed it, the potions master changed strategy.

"Dumbledore is waiting for me. Now, I'm not going to leave until you drink this. Just know what horrible consequences might come to pass if I don't show up in the next half an hour. I believe I am late already."

With that, he crossed his arms and eyed Lupin closely, hoping to make him feel uncomfortable enough to just drink the damn thing so that he could be off soon afterwards.

"And don't try to pull that housework crap at me, cause it won't work." He warned the werewolf as he made to speak.

Lupin glanced around nervously, then his eyes darted back and forth between the flask of Dreamless and Snape's unflinching stare.

"You –think it might help?" He finally asked, unsure.

"I do not know about that. All I know is that it will make you sleep for some time. It seems like you have trouble sleeping, so… But if you want sure facts, then I have none, except this: it surely won't harm. You take it, then go up with your room, and you will wake up just in time to lock yourself up."

Lupin just wanted him to go. He wanted to be alone. But if being alone meant to be left with the sole company of his own miserable self, then perhaps it was even worse. So maybe the idea of the potion wasn't so bad after all…

Snape shifted impatiently.

Finally he reached out for the flask, hesitantly brought it to his lips, and gulped it down. He made sure he didn't drink it all though. He preferred to have some more 'conscious' time before the full moon. 

Snape finally smirked appreciatively. 

"See now. That wasn't so difficult."

Lupin thought he knew now the way Longbottom felt when Snape bossed him around. 

"Now, go up. I'll go too. I shall see you tomorrow."

Lupin felt number by the second; he just nodded clumsily and went out. He reached the door on unsteady feet, and flung himself on the bed. His mind began to cloud, and he suddenly hoped he'd never wake up from that sleep, or else he'd tear himself apart… because an image was trying to make its way out from the back of his mind. An image he recognized among million of others swirling around in his brain.

There was a dark-haired, shimmering-eyed man, his lean body tracing an arch in the air as he fell backwards and through a mysterious veil.

*******************************************

Yay! I know guys, this sort of sucked. AND it was a bit short. 

It's just that, well, I have already written the 'breakdown' part and immediate consequences, so I sorta had to fill out the missing day between Snape's attack and the full moon.

So, yep. Next chapter deals with massive breakdown… poor poor Lupin. I love his character so much it hurts to see him like this… but hey, in the end he will get something positive, I promise. 

The songs are "Farther Away" and "My Immortal" by Evanescence. I have never actually listened to the first song –I just thought the lyrics fit perfectly -  but I definitely love "My Immortal". It's so sad…

By the way, I tend to manipulate the lyrics a bit, as to make them fit the story better.

If you review you will make me a happy girl!!!


	6. Losing It

Author's Notes

1) Gee… I' always surprised when I find a new lovely review attached to my story, so THANK YOU!!!

2) Mmh. Not into songfics myself lately… so I guess I'll just write the songs that inspire me at the beginning of the fanfic, as a sort of introduction…

********** CHAPTER SIX **********

******  LOSING IT  *****

Pride can stand a thousand trials

The strong will never fall

But watching stars without you

My soul cried

Heaving heart is full of pain

Oh, oh, the aching

Cause I'm kissing you

Touch me deep

Pure and true

Gift to me

Forever

Where are you now?

Where are you now?

Cause I'm kissing you.

--- "Kissing You" by Des'ree ---

Gradually, Lupin came to. He blinked, then looked around. He was lying in his bed, still dressed. What was the time? What day was it? He didn't understand…

Then he felt it. Unmistakable, the power of the approaching full moon. Ouch. It must be tonight, he thought, shaking his head. So he'd been sleeping? How odd. He hadn't slept this peacefully in a long time…which was what tipped him off. His sharpened senses were suddenly on full alert. He slowly got out of bed. Whoa. It must be around eight or so. Almost time to transform!

Piece by piece, everything came back to him. The meeting with the order, Tonks, Snape… of course. Who else could have given him some Dreamless? Yes, he'd taken it that very morning, the potions master had insisted on it. And the reason why he'd taken it… 

At first he hadn't thought it was a good idea, but now he was absolutely sure it was the stupidest thing he could possibly do… he cursed himself for giving in to Snape's arguments. His head felt like it was going to split in two, so there hadn't been a real change there –the Dreamless after all wasn't a curing potion. 

The only difference (for the worse) was that certain thoughts he'd shut off long ago were struggling to break free, now that his defenses were a bit lowered. He clenched his fists. He mustn't think about it. Especially not with the full moon three mere hours away… but despite everything, he could feel himself grow weaker by the minute. 

The dangerous image of a certain veil swaying slowly, barely brushing the floor, yet hiding perfectly whatever it was that hid behind it –or whomever, Lupin corrected himself mentally—swam in his mind.

He bit his lip until he was sure he'd drawn blood, concentrating on the metallic taste and sharp pain that invaded his mouth… and it still wasn't enough. So he thought about the war… about Dumbledore. And Voldemort. He couldn't let go, just like that, just for a stupid personal issue. His life was worth throwing away *only* if by doing so it would be of help to the Order. That was all that mattered. 

"Nothing else. Harry' safety, Harry's survival… Harry. Think of the boy…" 

Lupin hadn't even realized he'd started to speak out loud… he was too busy trying to actually *believe* what he was telling himself. And besides, Harry had the unfortunate fault of resembling James so closely that Lupin found himself gasping for air.

The Marauders. They had been his one true family…  Those years spent with them had been the best of his life… they had been so free, so…careless. Then came Voldemort. But in that period, even outnumbered as they were, they were still together. Still holding on to each other. And then Peter… well, he'd thought about Peter's betrayal so much that the pain wasn't really new. He'd analyzed all that had happened times and times over, during the year he'd spent here at Grimmauld Place, with…

* Sirius. *

His heart stopped, skipping a few beats, and he felt his throat go dry. He shut his eyes tightly. No, he had to stop it… but the thought of him slithered out of the depths of his mind, and suddenly he *felt*. He _felt_ his absence like he hadn't in a long month. Like he hadn't allowed himself until now.

And it hurt. Merlin, if it _hurt_. His mind began to fog, as every single memory of Sirius came rushing back to him. 

Every single smile, every single grin and look he'd given Lupin. The way he used to brush his hair away from his face, with that typical gesture of his hand, so similar to James and yet so different. The way he got angry, or happy… the first time he'd seen him after twelve long years, dirty, with his hollow cheeks and the blue bags under his eyes, his body no more than a skinny skeleton… and then he'd gotten better, and his eyes had gone back to the eyes Lupin remembered from their youth, though with that vague trace of sadness which never seem to leave him. 

His stubbornness, his selfishness, his damn recklessness…and everything else he loved about him. His braveness, his good heart. So maybe, on second thought, the past year had been the happiest of his life, even though everything had seemed to go wrong… How odd. Lupin had hoped better times would come, when Sirius would be less preoccupied, less keen on taking the weight of the world on his own shoulders…and yet, how could Lupin have foreseen it would only *worsen*… that it would end so abruptly?

And all the things he'd longed to tell him –for so long– and hadn't found the courage to…

Had Sirius known? Had he known all along, and pretended he hadn't understood? 

Would he have ever felt the same?

Lupin grabbed his pillow and tore at it with his hands, then threw it away with all his might, sending it flying in a whirling of feathers to the other side of the room; but there was nothing he could do to stop his thoughts from overflowing.

Sirius had been the first one to accept Lupin for who he was, for *what* he was. He'd always told him that the werewolf curse didn't matter to him. That others were the things important in this world, and prejudices were not one of those. Friendship, loyalty were.

Love.

But then he had gone. That had been the first time. He was a traitor, nothing more. And Lupin had cursed himself for being so stupid and allowing his weakness to take the better of him. He had wanted to believe him, he hadn't thought more rationally… or else, he would've realized there was something wrong with Sirius. There *had* had to be, if he'd been ready to sell Lily and James to Voldemort, and to kill Peter. Over and over, Lupin had asked himself why Sirius hadn't killed him too… because they had caught him too soon, or because he'd meant to play one last sick, mocking joke on his 'friend', the stupid werewolf? 

Lupin had hated himself so much, for so many years… for not realizing the truth, and because a small, insignificant part of him had never fully accepted Sirius as guilty. Lupin was on the side of good, yet he was still secretly connected with a murderer, the murderer of his best friends and former friend himself. Those twelve years hadn't been easy, to say the least. And meeting a thirteen-year-old Harry, so similar to James at his age, hadn't helped either…

Notwithstanding truth is always stronger than lies. And the truth had been uncovered. Peter had been forced to show himself for the traitor he was, and a new, wonderful feeling had once again invaded Lupin's heart and mind… happiness. Something he'd thought he would never experience again… it wasn't perfect happiness, because the worsening of Voldemort's threats, and Harry's precarious safety had been keeping them worried, almost suffocating them.

But they'd had time to talk, every now and then. 

Sirius was the only one left who knew Lupin's inner torments, who understood him better than Lupin himself was ready to admit. He had once again reassured Lupin that worrying so much about being a werewolf was silly… and this time Sirius had been able to understand how he had always felt, because now Sirius had experienced Azkaban, and being considered a murderer of the worst sort…

'A nice couple we make', Sirius had joked one day, 'a convicted murderer and a werewolf… what a wonderfully positive influence we'll have on my godson…'. They had laughed about it, because people's prejudices had never touched the Marauders when they were together. 

Privately Lupin hadn't managed to get rid of his problems in dealing with himself… he was so used to being despised that he would never be able to really let it go. Still, he'd longed to believe Sirius for as long as he could remember, and this time it was okay to just accept things as they came… He had his brother back, and therefore was ready to face Voldemort himself, regardless of the consequences.

Then, just as he'd once again found something worthy in his life… it was taken away from him. Again. In a single instant, all that was him had crumbled down, his heart crushed as though it were made of paper. This had been the second time.

Until now, Lupin had kept these thoughts on a subconscious level only, never daring to analyze why he felt like he had no more reason to live after Sirius' death. Now he did. 

It was earth-shattering. Mind-blowing.

And it all suddenly made sense. 

More than friend, more than brother, more important than *anything* else. More than this stupid war, more than sanity itself. 

Him. Just him. Just Sirius.

It was not in Lupin's nature to be selfish. He was a reasonable man. Yes. He wasn't the only one who'd lost Sirius. Then why did he feel like he actually was? 

 It was so unfair. He should've died instead –it wouldn't have been a lot better that way. It would have been 'right'. The outcast, the loner, the werewolf, the monster, the freak.

Not Sirius. Not wonderful, brave Sirius Black. 

Lupin felt like he couldn't breathe anymore. Tears had begun to slid down his cheeks, and the wetness startled him. He hadn't shed a single tear since Sirius had died… His fingers reached up to his cheek, as if to make sure the water was really pouring from his eyes. A month had gone by since that damned day at the Ministry, yet it felt like Sirius had died that very day. 

It felt so fucking _real_. 

He grit his teeth, and clenched his fists, grabbing a handful of the blanket, but to no avail. There was no escape from this pain. His thoughts lingered for a brief instant on the flask Snape had given him. He wouldn't use it. He felt like dying, but if making the pain go away meant making all the memories of Sirius go too –even if the effect was just temporary– then the hell with it.

Death… did it mean he might be able to go where Sirius was, at last? He noticed that the blanket was becoming soaked with his tears, but he didn't try and restrain himself. He just couldn't.

No one would come at Grimmauld Place for a while. He could just stay here, wasting away in tears until he was consumed. Was it possible to die 'simply' of a broken heart? He was sure of it now, beyond the shadow of a doubt.

His heart was shattered, all of him was. His mind wasn't going to survive much more. He had fooled himself into thinking he could bear it all in silence… but he wasn't Sirius. He had never had his bravery, nor his strength. 

He needed Sirius like Sirius would never have needed him.

And right now he needed him to be here, *in front of him*.

He stumbled out of bed, then dragged himself to his drawers. He managed to open the secret part with the small key he always kept around his neck, and fumbled with the things inside. His fingers brushed against the cool glass of the Oblivion flask, ignored it, and moved to the pictures instead. He took the two at the bottom, the sealed letter and a small golden key which he stuck in his pocket, then went back to the bed. 

He held up the pictures with trembling hands and finally allowed his eyes to rest upon them. And there he was. The most extraordinary man he knew.

In the first picture Sirius was staring off into space, his expression grave, his eyes deep and sad and a bit unfocused… (very much like his own were now, Lupin thought)… then he seemed to notice Lupin; he brushed his hair away from his face, tucking it behind his ear, and flashed him one of his most gorgeous, mischievous smiles, and he suddenly looked young and careless and free again. Lupin's heart was beating faster now, as he lost himself in those images of Sirius. He himself had taken this one, a couple of days after they'd moved to Grimmauld Place. Sirius had been lost in thought, and Lupin had sneaked up on him with a camera, but soon enough Sirius had sensed him, and he'd snapped out of his brooding, and had grinned like that… he used to live halfway between the past and the present, but maybe at that time Sirius had started to convince himself that reality was so bad after all.

Tonks had taken the second picture only three months earlier. It showed two people, Lupin and Sirius, sitting on the edge of the couch in the living room of that very house. They were bent forwards, their heads touching at times, clearly lost in some kind of whispered, yet excited conversation. They occasionally glanced up and around them, but apart from that they looked completely absorbed in whatever they were discussing. 

It had been a tough day, Lupin had just come back to Grimmauld Place after one of his missions, and as always he'd found Sirius anxiously waiting for him –though he'd never admit it, of course. Not because of worry for Lupin's person, he thought, but because he felt so helpless, trapped in that house he hated so much. Things hadn't been alright for awhile. Sirius had grown restless, a silent foreboding of bad things to come, like a shadow hanging over him. 

But it wasn't always like that. Some days were different, and the two of them would behave like they used to, taking a much needed break from reality, making plans for the future, when the war would be over, or listing the things they would teach Harry to do –things that weren't actually taught at *Hogwarts*, but that turned out to be pretty useful out in the real world… from small, innocent curses -Lupin was glad they hadn't been able to teach him those, or he wasn't sure that Malfoy kid would survive Harry after he was through with him- to how to become an illegal animagus; or they would try and fill in all the years of Quidditch they'd missed… and just about anything that kept them occupied in some way.

Days like these had become infrequent, but they always helped the two of them face the next thing, and the next, and all the things that would come ('well, not this time though…', said a voice inside Lupin's head). That Saturday morning had been one of those. Sirius had been trying desperately to lure the werewolf into taking him out 'for a walk'; Lupin had always denied him his help with that, not because he didn't want to, but because he was afraid something might happen to him if someone recognized the animagus. Sirius had reminded him that as much as the wizarding world knew he could transform into a dog, they didn't really know what *kind* of dog it was. 'Come on, look at the pictures they took of me in Azkaban,' he'd said jokingly, though his eyes had darkened just that little bit. 'They probably think I can become a *beagle* or something. A basset. Okay, a bulldog most probably.' Lupin's serious expression had broken into a smile, and he'd shaken his head. But it was true. The type and size of 'Sirius-the-dog' was top secret. Only the Aurors knew about it, Fudge had especially requested that (and Dumbledore had made sure that the information the Ministry got was very messed up; he had encouraged a lot of rumors… yes, even that of the beagle…). 

Sirius hadn't mistaken the smile: Lupin's defenses were lowering. So he'd chased him around the house for two weeks, giving him the puppy-eyed look Lupin hated (because with that look Sirius had always been able to make him do what he wanted, ever since he'd been appointed the Prefect badge), doing him favors and being sickly gentle with him all the time. 

'Come on, Remus, just like the old times…' and his eyes had really darkened this time, but then he'd shaken it away. 'I mean… this part of the city is in such decay that I doubt they even know what a dog *is*…', or 'Reeemus…'. 

Lupin couldn't believe it. With everyone else Sirius behaved casually, friendly… but was always controlled –apart from the rage outbursts of course--; it looked like he only allowed himself to be a bit looser when he was around him. And it was flattering, dammit. Especially because he knew Sirius couldn't stand having to stay at Grimmauld Place while Lupin went 'to be a hero', as he bitterly put it when he was in a bad mood. 

So one day Lupin had given in. He'd returned from a mission and was exhausted, so of course Sirius had taken full advantage of it. He'd asked him and begged him, and Lupin had thrown up his hands in frustration. Sirius' grin had been so huge Lupin might have stuck in a whole chair. Which by the way he contemplated, before finally dismissing it and allowing himself to grin back at him. Sirius had grabbed him by the arm, dragging him to the couch in the living room, and pushing him down on it before sitting right next to him. By then Lupin had begun to feel kinda excited at the idea of being a bit reckless for once. It was tiring after all, being always the calm, rational, controlled one. And besides, a small walk wouldn't hurt; it wasn't like they were going to risk getting caught. 

Yes, it might convince Sirius he could boss Lupin around all he wanted… 'Well, let him think that. He'll find out I'm much more firmer in my decisions now…' he'd told himself, smiling. So they had begun making plans… about when in the house there was going to be just the two of them, when there would be no danger of Snape being around –at this point he'd thrown Sirius such a glare that he'd swallowed, saying he would try and be civil to the "greasy g—I mean, to Snape" if Lupin helped him--, and the exact route they'd follow. Hell, Lupin had been sure Sirius would go so far as dressing as a woman if it helped him get outside –a suggestion, this, courtesy of Mundungus, who'd said he always did it when things got particularly bad.

They had been so taken up with their conversation that they hadn't even noticed Tonks taking the picture. They'd discovered it a week later, when she'd given them two copies of it, smiling and threatening to tell Dumbledore they were going to "try and visit Hogsmeade without their parents' permission"; she had joked, not knowing she wasn't far from the truth. She'd looked at them curiously when she'd realized they were blushing and carefully avoiding eye contact with each other.

Lupin looked at the picture lovingly, as he remembered how his left elbow and knee had occasionally brushed against Sirius' every now and then –at the time he hadn't even given it much thought, but now it burned painfully in his memory. Sad, how he'd allowed himself to explore the way he felt only *after* Sirius' death, when it was too late to do anything about it.

He took his time to examine it closely, not caring that the amount of time he spent doing it and the degree of sanity and self-composure he had left in him were inversely proportional. The two Lupins, the one in the picture and the one who was studying it with a vehemence and hunger that suited the werewolf inside of him rather than the ghost he had become, looked extremely different. The one sitting on the couch had graying hair and the slightest hint of bags under his eyes, but there was something about him—the awareness of having a whole life ahead of him, and some hope that the war would end and happiness might come at last.

How idiotic. How utterly stupid of him. 

Now, Sirius. Sirius was just Sirius. Long black hair and glittering gray eyes… his gaze was lit up, mischievous, *alive*. 

If it weren't for their more mature facial traits, they might have been mistaken for the Marauders they once had been. 

'Only' Lupin thought sadly, 'if it were so, then James would be there instead of me.' But this could not be, because James was dead. And Sirius had quite likely to just have *settled* for Lupin as best friend…

He remembered how Sirius used to look at Harry at times… Molly had been right the previews summer. Sometimes Sirius had the tendency to lose contact with reality and think his godson could be like James. A little one percent of Lupin hated it. 

Then again, Sirius had always been open about it. James had been his best friend of a lifetime, and always would be. Hard to compete with that. But Sirius had a big heart, and there was plenty of room for Lupin too. Being his next-best-friend was more than fine with him, and the remaining ninety-nine percent of him was okay with it. When you have two brothers, you love them both, even if you tend to be close to one of the two in particular. 

Friends, brothers… was it enough though? Was that really it? Wasn't there anything else, anything *more*?

His free hand clutched his chest as a searing pain shot through him. Damn, he'd known it would be hard, he'd known it all along… and he'd refused to let his emotions loose out of cowardice… but this was harder than he'd thought. Maybe what he'd told Tonks wasn't just figurative. 

\\\ "I can't let go. Cause if I do, I know I'll die. \\\

No, not yet. There was one last thing he had to do. The letter. Something Sirius had written. Just to him.

His wandering gaze finally settled to the letter. He broke the seal, and something inside him broke as well –this was the last connection he had with Sirius…-- then he extracted two pieces of parchment covered in Sirius' handwriting. The first was very formal, and clearly indicated the list of things Sirius wanted him to have; the second was scribbled all over, with some sentences crossed out and rewritten, and some jotted down in the margin… it was clearly a draft. Lupin dismissed the first quickly, and turned his attention to the second. He took a deep breath and began to read, his hands shaking, and the silent pouring tears veiling his eyes made it a bit hard to decipher the words. The date was that of the very day before he died: that was the reason why Sirius hadn't had time to write the definitive copy…

_"Remus. Moony. If you are reading this, it means I have gone. I can only hope my death served some greater purpose –that I was useful in this war. Because to tell you the truth I haven't been feeling that useful lately. I—damn. This is hard. I've already written letters to both Harry and Dumbledore, so this is the last one. Believe me, it's the most difficult one. I thought about not leaving you any letter –but that would have meant taking the easy way out, I guess. _

_Then again, what to write to your best friend xxxxxxxxxxx, when you know it's the second time he's lost you? _

_Let me put this right. If by my death I helped Harry or the Order in any way, then I'm satisfied. There's some form of comfort knowing you went down fighting, no matter what *you* say. _

_There's a 'but', of course. I know that I've just made your life a bit more miserable. And for that, if nothing else, I xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx cannot forgive myself. _

_Damn, I forgot… the formalities, of course, have to come first. _

_I leave you a third of my properties (don't you dare weasel out of this, have I made myself clear?), plus Grimmauld Place –I'm sure you won't want it at first, but… we've had xxxxxxxxxxx (this part was practically illegible, no matter how Lupin tried, he couldn't decipher the words) xxxx our good times here. Use both as you wish. I don't care. This house was never dear to me until now, and I hope the Order will continue to use it. _

_That said… I leave you all the stuff I have in my room –not that there's much, I still haven't really recreated myself a life… Anyways. Burn it all, if it makes you feel better. _

_Remus. You have to look after Harry for me, okay? I know it's gonna be hard for you, but it's necessary, it's *vital* that you do so. In time, he will understand why I had to go. And hopefully, so will you._

_Merlin, I'm hating every second of this. Why the hell did I have to start writing my will just now? Today has been one of the happiest days of my life xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx –and I've had a few since Azkaban. Yet I know I must do this. I owe it to you, for what you've done for me in the past few years._

_I know you'll hate me for this: you are the one alive now. Xxxxxxxxxxxxx Do not forget about our good times. Remember me, xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. I'll live through you. Xxxxxxxxxxx And James too. Keep us in your heart. Tell Harry about it some time. _

_Okay, okay, I'm getting sentimental…xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  hey, it's not like I'm about to go, okay? I have no intention of going anytime soon!!!_

Lupin paused for a second, and when he resumed reading it was the hardest thing he'd done in his entire life. 

_There is also something good about writing this down though. It kinda creeps me out, but I can't pretend it's not there. _

_I know you're rolling your eyes right now, so hold it. If you are reading this it means that  though I have gone, you are *alive* xxxxxxxxxxxxx (by the way, cute charm, uh? No one besides you can read this!!! I'm a genius or what?)._

_What I'm trying to say is that I'd rather have my stupid self killed than yours, if I had to choose. But I guess you know that already, don't you? I mean, wasn't I clear enough about it when we discussed it?_

_Remember, just like when McGonagall used to give me detention even when there was something you were in on, too. _

_You have to promise me something as well. Fight if you have to, but try not to be to rash on your decisions. Meaning: stay out of trouble if you can help it. Be careful. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

_I know now that you're not quite so controlled and quiet as you look… Moony. .xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx _

_PS Don't you do anything stupid, Moony.  I *mean* it. It might be selfish of me to say this, but if you do, you'll kill me all over again. I'd rather have you suffering than dead. No matter how bad you feel. It's not your time yet. Who says it? I do. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx_

Lupin's gaze was blank when he finished the letter. He sat there on the bed for the longest time, feeling only the dumbness that had invaded his heart. The first thought that finally sneaked out of his mind was that… 'Merlin, he's called me 'best friend.' And then the whole content of the letter began to sink in.

Now, *what* the hell was *that*? Lupin re-read it all over and over again, to make sure he wasn't imaging things. His eyes were hurting from all the crying, but there was no mistaking. This was Sirius' handwriting, it was Sirius' seal he'd broken, and the paper had been charmed to preserve the writing even if it was exposed to fire. Moreover, in his heart he knew this was him.

Only, this didn't sound like Sirius *at all*.

Had Sirius changed so much right before his eyes, without Lupin noticing it? It seemed unlikely. Okay, the few days before his, well, "departure", Sirius had been tensed and snappy. On the contrary, the man who'd written this letter seemed calm, controlled, and rational. 

There was another post scriptum, on the back of the piece of parchment, but Lupin had to look away for a while. This was too much to digest and his brain wasn't cooperating. The shattered pieces of his heart were floating in the empty hollow inside his chest. Was it possible to *ache* so much?

Why was Sirius suddenly so keen on analyzing Lupin's psychology? As if he'd had an idea of just how much Lupin would miss him, and wanted to settle everything before disappearing from his life forever. 

So, a) Had Sirius had some sort of gut feeling about what would happen to him? And if so, then *why* the hell had he followed them to the Ministry? And b) What could possibly happen to make Sirius think about the *FUTURE*? Let's face it, the wizard had barely learned to live the *present*… An epiphany was out of question, Sirius wasn't that kind of person. Then what was it? The only person Lupin thought could tame Sirius down –and not without some effort and most of all TIME—was Dumbledore. But the Headmaster and the Animagus hadn't really been on speaking terms with each other for the two weeks preceding the episode of the veil.

The last post scriptum read:

_PS About the you-know-what… you know what to do…_

Lupin shook his head, realizing Sirius would not be there to explain the parts the werewolf couldn't comprehend. Not anymore. He re-read the last part, desperately trying to understand what the hell it was all about. When he didn't manage to, he put the letter in his pocket along with the pictures, and hung his head.

As his head went over it again and again, all of a sudden a strange anger seemed to take hold of him, and he rose from the bed on uncertain feet, his teeth gritted in belligerence.

"Damn you…" he said slowly, almost in a whisper. "Damn you, Sirius." He said again, then stumbled out of his room; he stopped only when he reached the door next to his. It was locked, but somehow he was able to quiet his shaking hands for as long as it took to unlock it with the golden key he had put in his pocket. He pushed the door open and seemed to hesitate before entering. Holding his breath, he stepped inside, shutting himself in.

It had been a month since the room had last been opened, but somehow the dust hadn't managed to cover everything, not yet. Lupin's keen senses were overthrown by the smell of Sirius that still lingered in the room… he registered his own smell as well, probably amplified by the vibes of emotions he was emanating; and then he couldn't think anymore, because all that Sirius was driving him mad with sorrow. He totally lost it.

"Damn you, Sirius!" He yelled at the empty room, with a force he hadn't suspected he had left, worn and broken and tired as he was. His voice fell a bit, but he continued quite loudly nevertheless.

"You're right! You *did* take the goddamn easy way out! How… how *dare* you ask me to promise you those things? How dare you ask *me* to be rational? You hypocrite! That's what you are, a damn hypocrite! Why didn't you try and think of your butt first, for once in your life??? If not for me, then for Harry!!! Stubborn hypocrite…And what's with all those 'Moonies'? You hadn't called me Moony for bloody *ages*!!"

He sank to his knees next to the bed, and started to cry again.

"I hate you…" he muttered, choking in his own sobs; then he slipped underneath the covers and curled up on the soft mattress, clinging to Sirius' pillow. He closed his eyes and buried his head into it, losing himself in Sirius' scent.

He began to feel drained, like a piece of paper that slowly, inevitably surrenders to the flames. His chest hurt with every single silent sob, with every breath. Sirius couldn't really be gone… if Lupin had been standing in front of the veil right now, he would have passed through without even thinking, thus joining his missing half. But he wasn't, so he'd just have to wait for his heart to stop beating. And it would –stop beating--, he was certain of it. Nobody would disturb him here… nobody would notice…

He stroke his cheek against the pillow, wanting Sirius' smell to penetrate his own very skin, so that he would never forget it.  

"Padfoot… I didn't mean all those things I just said… please, Padfoot, come back… come back to me… Padfoot…*Padfoot*…" He began in a whispered chant, until his brain shut off everything that wasn't Sirius.

And suddenly, a sharp pain, a *physical* pain this time, as if someone was torturing him with thousands of knives. It almost woke him up, but no, he was too tired to even open his eyes. Too worn out. He waited for it to stop, but it didn't. Was it happening, then? Was he really dying? The pain became ever more insistent, and had no intention of going away. But what did it matter now? Nothing, nothing mattered anymore. Whatever it was, Lupin wasn't afraid. He just hoped it would be quick, so that he could finally be with Sirius.

Then he vaguely remembered the full moon… only, his brain registered the information as something without meaning, unimportant… just before everything went** black**.

*******************************************

END OF CHAPTER SIX!!!!!!

Sorry it took me so long to write it.. it's just that I was never satisfied with the way it turned out, no matter how many times I re-edited it…

So what do you think? 

Maybe I went too far… I didn't want to make it too pathetic, but I somehow *had* to convey just how much Lupin is hurting. In my opinion, platonic love stories are so heartbreaking exactly because they are not consumed… they are the higher form of love, but in this way they are never truly complete. Know what I mean? I wanted to show the lacking side of the story –well, not to mention the fact that Lupin thinks it is a *one-way* love (and we'll see about that late on).

**Sirius' letter** is intentionally obscure. There have to be some things that don't make sense, the plotline requires it. 

Anyways, if I had to explain the reasons behind the choice of each word, I'd write a whole book, so… I hope you can understand what I mean… if there is something that doesn't make sense, please point it out and I'll try to make it clearer. (How can I find a beta reader? How does the beta-thingy work?)

Read and Review please!!!

I've been looking in the mirror for so long

That I've come to believe my soul's on the other side

All the little pieces fallen, shattered

Shards of me, too sharp to put back together

Too small to matter                                                   

But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces

Lie to me, convince me that I've been sick forever

And all of this will make sense when I get better

I know the difference between myself and my reflection

I just can't help to wonder

Which of us do you love

So I bleed, I blees

And I breathe, I breathe

I breathe no more

--- "Breathe No More" by Evanescence ---


	7. Surviving aka Unexpected Changes

Disclaimers: Still not mine, despite my best efforts…

A/N

1) Guys, please… was chapter six so BAD? I mean, I didn't get a single review… not one! Not even a flame!! I'm getting scared here… if there was anything wrong with it, you should tell me, so that I can make it better!!! Please! gets on her knees and begs for reviews ;;;

2) Here is a chappie that I'm sure will delight all Lupin/Snape friendship shippers out there. It is, in fact, a hurt/comfort. It will not become romance, just so we're clear, but it is kinda open to all sorts of interpretations.

3) I know the Oblivion thing is CRAPPY to say the least. I'm sorry. What can I say, I have no life.

CHAPTER SEVEN

SURVIVING

Lupin didn't know how he had managed to survive the night.

As he lay there, unmoving, the pictures still clutched in his hand, he was oblivious to everything else around him. He couldn't feel his own body anymore. His physique had turned out to be quite stubborn in refusing to let go… well, it didn't bother Lupin: his brain and heart were too far gone now, so it was really just a matter of time before the rest of him went as well. He didn't attempt to move a single muscle, he just waited… Just a few more hours…

"For the sake of Merlin…" a strangely familiar voice suddenly invaded his private space. He ignored it. Leave me alone, he thought. Alone.

He felt the door close. From the inside. Then someone walked up to the bed.

"Are you hurt?"

What kind of a stupid question was that? Of course I am, you idiot… Lupin summoned what little strength he had in him, and forced himself to speak.

"Go away" he said in a coarse whisper –he couldn't even talk properly. He thought about it, then added. "Or hex me. Whichever."

"Are you hurt?" That question, again. What did it mean?

He felt cool, skinny hands grab his, roll up his torn sleeves a bit and carefully examine his palms and wrists, up to his forearms.

"Where does all the blood come from?" This seemed to wake Lupin up a bit.

"What…blood…?" He croaked, opening his eyes slowly, and turning to look at… Snape? Great, of all people, he was the last he wanted to see right now. His eyes fell shut again.

But Snape had found what he was looking for.

"Have you gone out of your mind?" Was the sharp comment, when he took a closer look at Lupin's fingers. The werewolf felt the same cold hands turn him forcefully on his back. Just like its sleeves, the front of his shirt had been torn too, and there were scratches all over his chest.

"It's nothing…" he said, trying to push the hands away. Snape was not thrown off in the least.

"It's full of old scars…and there are new wounds as well. How long have you been doing this?"

Lupin chuckled mirthlessly in spite of himself.

"The scars are… well, now you see why I appreciate your Wolfsbane so much? I used to do this every time I transformed…"

"Which doesn't explain the new ones. They're not just claw marks. What are they? Did you try and scratch yourself with your bare--" it had started as a sarcastic comment, but when Snape realized it must be just that, he fell silent.

"Snape, I'm giving you the chance to turn away now…" Lupin said, the calmness in his voice sounding more like a threat.

"Do shut up, Lupin." Snape went on. "Unless you have something useful to say. Now…" Snape stopped abruptly. "What the—?"

He reached out once more, and his long bony fingers closed around the two pictures that had slipped out of Lupin's grip during Snape's examination.

Merlin, but this man is good at hiding his emotions, Lupin thought, as he peered up at the potions master. Mmh. Maybe he hadn't understood all of it, Lupin wasn't sure. The expression on Snape's face was impenetrable, and no harsh comments escaped his now pursed lips as he seemed to make some quick thinking.

"Where did you put the Oblivion?" He finally asked, his voice blank.

Lupin shook his head.

"It's too late. I'm kinda beyond that. What I need now is a good wand. Hell, even a knife would do…"

"If this is a joke, I'm not laughing." Snape finally said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Does it look like I'm joking? Hell, I've never been so _serious_ in my--" Lupin froze, that word bringing everything back in a wave. He began to choke, and his eyes watered all over again; the tears were silent and burning.

Snape flinched, alarmed, and tried to shake him.

"For pity's sake, Lupin, pull yourself together!" His voice was hard as steel, but Lupin could tell he was getting scared. Snape? Scared? Two words he thought he'd never put in the same sentence. This time though he'd really caught him off guard… poor Snape, having to witness to –

"Lupin. Get on your feet now." Snape's voice brought him back to reality. "You need to come with me, this instant." To prove he meant it, the potions master overcame his dislike for touching people –and more specifically half-breeds- with a glower, and grabbed Lupin by one arm, trying to get him to sit up. Lupin didn't comply. But he'd begun to feel his limbs again; his chest hurt badly, and the stickiness told him he'd indeed been bleeding. A lot.

"Why do you even--" 'Bother', he'd meant to say, but Snape talked him down.

"Don't give that bastard this satisfaction." He said, slightly lowering his voice. He was sure this would shake Lupin a little, and in fact it did.

"What?" Lupin's eyes shot up at him. Snape sneered.

"You heard me, Lupin. He's not worth your life."

Eyes suddenly darkened, Lupin struggled to sit up.

"How dare you…" He tried to push himself off the armchair so that he could throw the potions master out, but he was too weak, and began to sway. Snape would have rolled his eyes at how easy it had been, but right now he didn't feel confident enough… Lupin looked downright distraught. Snape didn't know how in the world the wizard had been able to survive the full moon in those conditions.

So he caught hold of the werewolf instead, supporting him.

"Now, that's better." Snape said, irritated. "Come now. Can you walk?" Lupin didn't answer, but when Snape pulled him out of Sirius' room, he followed quietly.

The potions master dragged him to his own room, and helped him lie down on his bed; he performed a cleansing spell to rid Lupin's body of all the blood. Lupin let him do it without moving a single muscle, either to help him or push him away; he just kept his eyes fixed on the ceiling, and no word escaped his mouth.

Snape turned his back on Lupin and approached his desk, rummaging through his stuff, in search of something. He didn't like having Lupin there, in his private space, but at least he could keep an eye on him this way… make sure the werewolf didn't do anything extreme while he tried to figure out what to do. After ten minutes or so he'd lined up a number of potions on the edge of the desk. Since he couldn't use anything too strong (Lupin's weakened body wouldn't take it), he opted for

"You know, you are damn lucky that Shaklebolt and McGonagall didn't drop by today, like they should have. Or Dumbledore…" he added, painfully stressing the word. Lupin's eyes widened in alarm and searched Snape's, but he was still standing with his back facing Lupin. Snape glanced over his shoulder, then resumed preparing the potions.

"Don't worry, Lupin. I'm not going to tell him. Yet." But he'll have to know, and I'll make sure he does."

Lupin relaxed visibly, then stiffened again.

"You…" he began tentatively, "What are you gonna tell him?" Snape thought about it.

"The truth." He said at last, with a sigh. "Full moon. No Wolfsbane. No oblivion. You just lost it, obviously." Clearly, Snape felt at least in part responsible for what had happened.

Silence. Then:

"And that's it?" it was barely above a whisper; luckily, Snape had a good hearing.

"That's it, Lupin." He stopped fidgeting with a vial and turned to look at the werewolf. "Is there really anything else to say?" His voice maybe, just maybe, sounded tired.

Lupin didn't know if Snape had really understood the reason why he had crumbled down; but the potions master was an intelligent man… he must have put two and two together. And yet, if he had, he was very good at hiding whatever the hell it was that this particular bit of information had stirred in him. Why wasn't he making fun of Lupin? The absence of sarcastic comments about Sirius on Snape's part were unheard of. Was he just ignoring the matter because he felt uncomfortable? Yeah, right. When Snape was uncomfortable, he usually attacked instead of retreating or simply dropping the subject.

Lupin's thoughts trailed off: Snape had once again turned his back on him. Maybe he'd taken Lupin's silence as a sort of affirmative answer to his earlier question. Well, it was good, wasn't it? Snape might actually decide to keep his nose out of it… right? Then why did Lupin feel a surge of –disappointment?- run through him? He shook his head, trying to clear his mind.

After making sure everything was in place, Snape took the first vial in his hand and turned to Lupin.

"Here" he said. "Drink it." Lupin nodded weakly, defeated. Snape had to hold the vial to his lips, because the werewolf's hands were shaking dangerously. When Lupin gulped the concoction down, Snape finally nodded, satisfied.

"Good. Now this one." He brought to his lips another small bottle, filled with a dense, dark red liquid. Lupin drank it obediently.

"Now. Try and stay awake. You have to drink another potion in about ten minutes. I'll be right back." Lupin looked at him questioningly, and a bit—frightened? Snape shook his head. What did he care?

"I just need to inform Dumbledore that I'm staying here for a while." Lupin tried to sit up on his elbows to protest, but Snape motioned for him to lay back down.

"Do not move. You're too weak. I'll just tell Dumbledore I'm spending the day here." He repeated, thoroughly annoyed, then swept away.

Lupin didn't relax though. What if Snape told Dumbledore? He wasn't ready to face the old wizard. Snape was right about this. He was too weak. And frankly, all he felt like doing right now was lying down, feeling sorry for himself. And think of Sirius, and of all the missed chances in his life. He curled up slightly on the bed, holding his hands close to his heart. Maybe if he thought hard enough, he might be able to disappear…

He didn't know what the names were, but those first two potions weren't really working. Or at least, he didn't feel any different. Right. They must be merely concoctions to stop the bleeding, and the other to integrate the blood loss. The other pain, the one weighing on his chest, suffocating him… that wasn't nearly as easy to heal. Lupin forced himself to breathe more deeply.

Soon enough, Snape was back. He approached Lupin briefly and examined the now closed wounds, then fed the werewolf another potion. The poor wizard was so distracted by the lingering images of Sirius floating in his mind that when he realized what Snape had done, it was too late.

He looked up at the potions master, eyes wide.

"You—how could you--"

"You are giving me no choice." Snape replied gravely. "The Oblivion is really your last chance. You may not feeling it now, but you're under shock and Merlin knows what else. Anyways. I don't know what plans you had back there, but you are not going to die tonight. Not while I'm in here. I will not be made a fool of."

Lupin screwed up his face as he tried to put Snape's now slightly blurred form into focus. He failed.

"I told you I didn't--"

"I couldn't care less about what you told me."

His mind fogged then, and the last thing Lupin saw before drifting into a long, restful, dreamless sleep was Snape's eyes. For the first time in his life, said eyes were looking down at Lupin with no traces of disgust, or sarcasm, or malevolence. Just plain anger. Or had he just imagined it?

There is nothing much that can be said about the Oblivion, except that it's highly unstable if you don't pay a lot of attention to the quantity you drink. It's known to have caused the death of some wizards and witches that had procured themselves a certain quantity illegally –because they hadn't been informed of the possible consequences if you took just a few drops more than necessary. Some had fallen in some sort of permanent coma. However, taken in small doses, its affect was undeniably useful.

Lupin had slept throughout that day, to the following one, and had awakened on the third morning after the full moon night. The knowledge of what had happened during and after the breakdown was perfectly clear in his head, but the pain mustn't be half as bad now. It should be perceived as more 'distant' now. Snape had taken it many times before, so he basically knew all the effects and side-effects.

Physically, he had managed to heal Lupin completely, courtesy of some unaware help on Madam Pomfrey's part. Snape wasn't stupid… he'd assumed that the old witch knew everything about werewolf healing –and how many times had she helped Lupin after particularly nasty transformations? So, Snape had convinced her to give him some advice, and he'd even managed not to give away Lupin's real condition.

The potions master had informed Dumbledore straight away, of course, and had asked him not to rush by Lupin's side too quickly. The werewolf had to sort out some stuff out first. The Headmaster had looked at Snape sadly, then he'd smiled and said something about how "light can be found in the darkest places", and that "right now Lupin was lucky to have Snape by his side"; then he'd offered the potions master a lemon drop. At his comments, Snape had promptly graced him with one of his most murderous glares –one that showed just how much he'd started to regret saving the poor ass' butt.

So here he was, relegated to the role of baby-sitter. If someone had told him two months before he would end up like this, he would've made sure to kill the idiot, and then himself too, just out of spite. And yet this experience had somehow turned out to be enlightening. He hadn't even suspected there could be more to the werewolf. Now he knew better.

Not that he would ever admit it to anyone, of course. In fact, he made a good job at hiding it all, getting mad at Lupin every time he got a chance to… and somehow, it was easier to pity the poor sod when he was not around. Because most of the time, when he was around, he just wanted to strangle him for his stupidity. Kill himself! Come on, how bloody pathetic could you get?

Right now, Snape was sitting in the kitchen, drinking hot tea and trying to figure out why that night's visit to the Dark Lord didn't bother him as much as it should have. His Master had let him know he wanted to see him. Well, he could only hope he was in a better mood than the last time…

Lupin was alone. Snape had helped him move back to his own room, and he was still surprised that no one but Dumbledore had been informed of what had happened. Unless he was very much mistaken, there was a slight possibility that Snape was really trying to help him. Of course, maybe the Headmaster had told the potions master to keep his mouth shut… but after all, when had this worked on Snape before? He had been the one who'd casually let it slip that Lupin was a werewolf, in spite of Dumbledore's specific orders… and now, now he was still the same bastard, from his moods to his attitudes…and yet…there was no mistaking his actions. Severus Snape had decided to help him.

Enough of Snape! Sirius was the most important thing now. Sirius!

Now, a small voice rose inside his drained head… he began to feel a bit –disappointed. Yes, Sirius had always been the strong one. But he'd thought he'd be able to do anything for him, if not for himself; this had proved false indeed. He hadn't even had the strength to go to him. He wasn't alive because Snape had prevented it; he was alive because he was too bloody weak to even end his worthless life. He sighed deeply. How pathetic. And on top of all this… he'd let the potions master see his pathetic weakness too. It was almost… embarrassing. And in that moment he silently thanked Snape's cold blood.

And today, the whole damn Weasley family had been invited… he could only hope Snape's dislike for them was greater then the urge of telling about Lupin's little 'accident'.

Then the potions master was back. Lupin gave him no sign or recognition when he entered the room, hastily closing the door behind him. Snape didn't seem to pick up Lupin's determination in blaming the potions master for saving him. Instead, he busied himself with some potion or concoction, or whatever it was that he was doing on that damn desk of him.

"You know, I'm really gonna put something in those brats' soup sometime soon, when they're not looking."

Lupin turned his head and opened his mouth to speak, then fell silent again. Snape was clearly trying to get him to speak, and he surely wouldn't give him that satisfaction. Besides, even if he didn't know exactly who the potions master was referring to, he could assume it was either Ron and Ginny, or the twins. Funny, how someone who hated kids so much had ended up being a teacher. And why so wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts job, Lupin had no clue. Okay, the subject might be a bit more fascinating than potions… but it was still about dealing with children, after all…Damn, thought Lupin, he's managed to tear me away from my black thoughts once again. How the hell does he do that?

It was strange to think about Sirius, now that he'd cried to the last drop of water he had in his body. He kept staring at the ceiling, dry-eyed, his hands unconsciously gripping the sheets on his sides.

"Can you believe what they just accused me of? They wanted to make sure I hadn't blasted you unconscious, then chopped you into tiny bits and brewed a potion with what was left of you."

Lupin's eyes shot up at Snape. What the hell was he talking about? Oh, right, the 'brats'... that was why he was so mad at them. And what an imaginative idea... chopping him into bits... hadn't he been in such condition, he would've laughed at the thought. But hey, since when had Snape become so talkative? He couldn't see the potions master's face, as his back was facing him.

"Tsk! If I wanted to get rid of you, there'd be a million other things I might do that would be far more effective. The easiest one, I guess, would be that of doing absolutely nothing... you alone would do the whole thing, and I wouldn't even have to get my hands dirty."

The sarcasm was evident in Snape's tone, and yet the potions master wouldn't look at him. Maybe he felt uncomfortable around Lupin's sorrow. Maybe because he was still shaken about what Lupin's actions really meant, but didn't want Lupin to know... he might read the confusion in his eyes, and he wasn't going to show that to anybody. The werewolf of course didn't know any of this, so he just assumed Snape was keeping as further away from him as he could get. Which was basically what he normally did with people every sodden day. He didn't comment the potions master's remark, and returned his eyes on the ceiling instead.

After a while though, Lupin heard that Snape's actions had become abrupt and a bit erratic. He was pissed off, Lupin could tell. About what? The potion wasn't working out well? No way, no such thing could happen to Snape!

Then he turned towards Lupin, his eyes menacing. Lupin swallowed, as Snape's gaze transfixed him.

"Well…" Lupin began, then fell silent. Snape just kept on staring down at him, until he could hold it no more. He couldn't help it. He wanted to know, wanted to hear it from the werewolf's lips, why he'd do such a stupid thing. At times he felt like he understood, and then suddenly he'd realize the utter stupidity of Lupin's idea…And by the way, he'd behaved 'civilly' while the werewolf was recovering, now he could vent out some of his frustration on him.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?" he said, demanding an explanation. Lupin didn't feel like lying again.

"I was just. It's complicated." Snape had the decency not to laugh at him.

"Right…" he opted for a neutral answer, then thought about it for a while, and exploded. "I'll make it clear for you, if you still haven't got it. This is none of my bloody business. But I think you were about to make the stupidest choice you could possibly do. To the Order. To Dumbledore. Or maybe you didn't notice. Well, I'll enlighten you: we are in the middle of a fucking war. Couldn't you wait until it is was over? I would've gladly helped you then." Lupin's eyes finally lifted to Snape's.

"At this point I'm not so sure I care." Snape's eyes blazed, and his fists clenched; he looked like he was trying to restrain himself from hitting Lupin.

"How dare you -" he gritted his teeth, not letting out a very offending comment he desperately wanted to throw at him. It was okay to feel desperate… but giving up on the Order for Melrin's sake! And he was supposed to be a Gryffindor?

"It's the truth." Lupin said. "Don't misunderstand me. I know how much I owe to the Order. How much I owe to Dumbledore… he was one of the first people who accepted me for who I was, not what I was. You yourself had some "disagreements" with him, over a certain DADA job. Anyway, there is a certain amount of pain that a man can bear… some people just have a higher rate. Clearly I haven't." Snape seemed to calm down for the moment, but he was still angry.

"Don't talk to me about "bearing", Lupin. You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, I do. I do, Snape. You might have always seen me as the happy, careless, reckless Marauder that I used to be. But things change –and to tell you the truth, I have never been happy, nor careless anyway."

"I seem to recall a certain amount of things you liked to "do" with your time though…"

"Even then, I didn't actively 'take part' in what they did. I just didn't report them, yes, and I even encouraged them. I must admit, this can be worse, from a certain point of view. SO it all comes down to acceptance, once again. Snape, I was accepted. I had never even dreamed of the possibility of it. So, if I had to behave in a certain way in order to achieve what I most wanted in my whole bloody life… I was more than willing to. Of course, I didn't see you then as I see you now. I've changed my mind a lot since then. Especially for what concerns you."

"Oh, did you…" said Snape, but the trace of disgust was almost gone from his voice now. He seemed to consider Lupin's words.

"I'm not attempting to flatter you. Far from it." He put on his most honest expression, one that Snape couldn't mistake, not even if he wanted. Snape closed his eyes briefly, then shrugged and turned his back on him again.

"Bloody werewolves…" He growled, his angry, disgusted façade back on. But somehow, he had seemed to understand. That was a first step. To what, Lupin didn't know. Nothing probably. At least he'd gotten it off his chest. Would've been a pity to carry it with him to the dead. He shuddered at the thought.

Alright guys, this was chapter 7. I hope it doesn't suck too much…

I once again apologize for my laziness, I haven't updated in, like, forever.

Anyways, if you have any comments/suggestions/flames… just feel free to Read & Review!!!

(okay, that was lame… I'm gonna go now)


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